Exorcistus
by Princess-Panda-Pheles
Summary: Harry Potter, age 19, enters the Veil of Death once the war has ended, unable to move on, unable to settle down. When offered a choice, he doesn't go back, and wipes the easel completely, waking up in a world where his parents lived, his brother is the Boy-Who-Lived and he wanted nothing more than to be an Exorcist. [Slash, Harry/Many AU/Time Travel Powerful!Harry, HP/Sirius incl.]
1. Prologue: Exorcistus

**Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter.**

**Warnings: Rated M to cover all bases - violence, sexual situations, possibly triggering content. Mentions of religion and holy texts, and of course, slash/het. Permanent pairings are undecided as of yet. The most likely outcome is a polyamourous ship between Luna Lovegood x Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy - hehe, fairly obvious this is AU now, isn't it? Mentions of Sirius Black/Harry Potter (inappropriate I know, but I've got a spot for this..) - unlikely to be the final pairing, but if even light mentions squick you out, consider yourself warned. Gonna make an effort to teach an old cilchés some new tricks.**

_Summary:- A world in which a nineteen year old Harry Potter has a choice after the war, and that choice leads him to a whole new side of a war he's already fought. Harry finds himself in a strange world where his family is alive, everyone's alive - and Harry isn't the Boy-Who-Lived, his brother, Daniel is. Boy, that isn't the half of it, he finds himself in the life of a tall, neurotic, and sickeningly enough - **Slytherin **__\- counterpart, who doesn't want to be an auror, or even a hit-wizard. No, this Harry Potter is hellbent on being the greatest Exorcist this world has ever seen, it's time for the former BWL to see if he can fill those shoes, and more importantly, protect the next saviour of the world._

_"Oh God, this shit again," - Harry Potter_

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Exorcistus

**{Prologue}**

The idea of landing in a new universe that was so similar but so very unlike your own, is a really strange thing to contemplate, whether or not you believed in the multiverse, comprehending that many possibilities and entire lifetimes born from the smallest divergences in time and choices is always overwhelming. Fainting, running around screaming at the top of your lungs or looking for the nearest person might be any normal person's initial reaction to landing in such a place, but then again, Harry Potter was hardly ever normal – no matter how hard he tried.

That, and this was intentional.

Well, semi-intentional.

When Harry Potter plunged himself into the Veil of Death at the Department of Mysteries at the tender age of nineteen, he didn't expect to be at a crossroads.

He didn't expect to be anywhere, really, instantaneous death was what happened to most, but then again, Harry Potter wasn't _most people, _and he had a certain way about skirting and flirting with the afterlife, as many legends that get carved into wizarding or muggle mythology always do.

Harry Potter knew where he was walking, at least, somewhat, ever road at the centre of the golden cobbled crossroads had tiny little wooden looking signposts in varying states of age, pointing down narrow paths to different possibilities, different places, and different peace.

_You've done quite enough Mr Potter, now it's time to choose._

_Do it again Harry? - _Left

_Jump over to Death, Harry? - _Right

_Back again, Harry? -_ South

_A New Beginning, Harry? - _North

That's what the little signs all read, and after picking a path, the whole ordeal felt like a dream, at least, when he woke up in an unfamiliar but soft, homely bed, it felt like a dream, except that he was fully aware that it wasn't, and the surreality of it finally hit him when he was staring over at the left side of a pasty wall, a Wicked Sisters moving poster winking at him – representative of your average wizarding boy's bedroom, except – it wasn't _Harry's _bedroom. Not the one he'd accustomed to thinking as his, and it was certainly no Dudley Room 2 or cupboard under the stairs, no, definitely not.

You see, Harry Potter chose the North Road, not fully knowing where it would lead, but having the faintest idea, the gut instinct, the very sense that kept him alive for so very long, and turned his back on Death for perhaps the millionth time, and plunged on ahead.

A New Beginning.


	2. The Boy-Who-Went-North

_See Prologue for Warnings._

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter._

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**The Boy Who Went North**

{Chapter One}

Knowing more or less that you'd chosen to start over and were definitely not dead in a none too familiar place would be startling for some, and it certainly was, but Harry was long done with the feeling of constant wariness, at least, for now, because he'd _asked _for this. This was the path he chose, so it was no good freaking out, no, it was time to see where on God's green Earth the Veil of Death spat him out.

'A New Beginning' – a little vague for Harry's tastes and a tad cliché, and there weren't any time traveler accounts of this nature except ones heavily categorized as myths or ramblings of mad, mad, men.

The former Master of Death had heard of stranger things though, to be honest.

By far the most shocking thing was waking up on wobbly feet and feeling his entire body rebel against him, giving him slow, sluggish, awful movements, he wasn't sure if _he _changed or if by some horrible something-for-something trade ended up within another person and thereby cancelling out someone's existence, he was given no real answers when he found a long 6ft antique mirror in the corner of the room.

His own reflection stared back at him except – no – wait, it was _different, _it was Harry but _not-Harry._

Harry Potter, where his growth hadn't been stunted by a cupboard under the stairs.

Harry Potter, where he got his three meals a day and exercise.

Harry Potter, where he wasn't malnourished and wiry to Hell. It still felt like he was too small for his body, his hands were too large, he was too high from the ground, it was like the mechanics of walking were suddenly a lot slower and logier as he adapted to the simple change that caused such a shock – honestly, out of all the things to knock him for six, ending up in a new place, in a new body, in a frightening and strange situation – the most shell-shocking change was being _tall. _In a way, that was a little amusing, and for the moment being he didn't seem to be in any danger, so he decided to take inventory of himself in front of the mirror.

His hair was as unruly as ever but looked like it was used to being a bit more styled since parts of it at the front at least, seemed to lay semi-flat, the rest of it a nicely spiked mess, just a few inches longer past his ear than he was used to, but it didn't look _bad _or wildly different, but the smallest difference in such a thing highlighted how very different his tall _not-Harry _body felt, even though he still bore a lightning bolt scar and the same forest green eyes.

Naturally, he peeled his clothes off as fast as he could.

You may think it strange, but the first thing he did was awkwardly run a hand over the skin of his arms and where he was used to feeling ribs, instead feeling a healthy amount of muscle and fat there, befitting of an in-shape teenage boy. He span around and examined himself thoroughly, his body was, for lack of better word, _nice, _but….what were all those marks? He had quite a few fading all over his skin, which made him wonder if he'd plunged into a much more dangerous world where this Harry was in much more imminent danger than before, though the scars looked old, he had to wonder why a simple _Episkey _charm didn't prevent them from happening, they didn't feel like curse scars, not in the sense that his forehead scar was, but they felt troubling to him all the same.

"What…the hell… is this…?" he whispered to himself, because only the light of the moon was streaming into the modest bedroom, and it was night time, stopping him from running around and investigating, making a fuss and calling attention to himself until he knew _exactly _what was going on.

It took a while for him to understand, wandering around putting a nicely fitting night robe back over himself that he'd removed previously, feeling the material was a soft silk imitation against his body, something he didn't recall owning back in his reality.

"Wait…" he looked around the room, it was hard to tell in the dark and in such pristine condition, but he opened the door delicately and peered down the unlit corridor, detecting sleeping noises of other occupants that made every Mad-Eye Moody instinct installed within him raise to maximum levels of alarm.

'_I'm definitely not alone'_

But the layout finally clicked in his head, it took a while, because it was dark, pristine, uncharred, and undamaged, it took seeing a few oddly remembered cracks in places that the reality sank in rather dramatically as he slowly shut the door and sank down onto the floor, blinking wildly at the darkness, close to hyperventilating.

"_This is Godric's Hollow, I'm in Godric's Hollow," _he breathed over and over to himself, but that wasn't the most jarring part.

"_I'm in Godric's Hollow __**before **__the attack..?" _it wasn't ransacked, withering and post-Voldemort in this world, here it was still very much in use.

His heart shot right up into his throat as Harry did his best to wobble to his feet and clamber for the room light, glancing at the room. A large bed, moving band posters, quite a few books and the odd bit of Quidditch memorabilia strung on the walls.

It was definitely a Harry Potter type room, had Harry ever had the luxury of decorating one to his own whims, and on a neat study desk, was a none-too-guarded simple book, with the word _Journal _conveniently scribbled on it. Normally leaving such a thing out there was a foolish move but there doubtless pre-charmed protections on it when kids brought diary books from Diagon Alley. This one, thankfully, recognised him, from a finger print and magical signature basis, apparently, but Harry had his fair share of enchanted journals from his second years, so seeing that this universe's Harry kept one was surprising, but helpful. The handwriting was still his familiar spidery script, and in a way it was bizarrely comforting to Harry that he hadn't completely obliterated the Harry that existed there previously, and carried at least some similarities with him.

'_Dear __D-'_ scribbled out word_ 'J__ournal. -_

_Diaries are for girls, and I'm definitely not a girl last I checked.' _Harry snorted at that first entry, blithely wondering what Tom Riddle would have thought if confronted with his diary keeping habit as _girly, _but continued, shaking a little as his fingers traced down the unfamiliar pages, trying to grasp what was happening around him.

'_But mum said this would be a 'good outlet' or something since we can't do magic until we get our Hogwarts letter, ugh! I bet the Ministry doesn't even check The Trace when loads of adults are doing magic in a place under the freaking Fidelius Charm….' _ Harry's heart skipped at the entry mentioning _mum, _they're alive? Lily and James Potter?

He read on with a sense of speed and urgency, finding complaints, everything from James Potter being too loud to Lily burning a roast by overestimating a cooking spell's temperature and a _stupid little annoying brother named Daniel, _who, if was caught reading Harry's journal, had many inventive threats which involved shoving spiders into Daniel's sandwiches or dutch-ovening him.

It seemed this Harry Potter was rather neurotic.

Neurotic, but interesting, and more importantly, _had a family._

A family where this 'Daniel Potter' was apparently, _the Boy-Who-Lived._

"Poor sod," whispered Harry, his eyes watering at the notion of being in a family unit, he almost wanted to creep out of his room and stick his head in to the others and see what they looked like but he couldn't risk it, he had to wait until morning, and read more of the life he was now blessed with.

"Harry Potter, brother of the Boy-Who-Lived," he whispered to himself, before snorting a little bit – fate had a sense of humour, he had a fresh start, sure, but the world was still at war here, things were different, he was relieved, happy, over the moon, silently crying – _the people he mourned were alive, _people he never _met _were alive.

His heart almost exploded as he realized –

_Sirius!_

_Sirius could be alive here!_

Sirius, Remus, his parents, this mysterious baby brother, it was all too much, he found himself reading the journal like the holy bible from dusk till dawn.

Harry was enraptured by the journal, angry that this world's Harry didn't seem to appreciate how lucky he was, but intrigued, he was neurotic, different, and well, kind of a douche. Harry all but jumped out of his skin when he heard a soft, delicate male voice pierce the silence after a few soft knocks on his door.

"Harry, you 'wake? Your lights on…" sniffle sniffle.

Harry froze, there was no way – that was, uh, Daniel, right?

"Can I come in?"

Silence.

"Harry?"

"U-uh yeah…yeah…!" he said unsure, eyes wide as a small child with wild red hair and blue eyes pounced on him with bloodshot tiredness in his face, bowling Harry over in shock on the desk at his study as the small teenager tried to burrow their head against his chest.

"Harry it happened again!" cried out the tiny voice, Harry, bewildered and wondering if he'd wake up soon, acted on muscle memory type reaction in immediately wrapping his arms around the unfamiliar figure, mind racing.

"Uhm w...what happened?" he did his best to play his confusion off as tiredness, and it seemed to work, as he took in the appearance of…Daniel? This had to be Daniel, right?

A younger brother. Cuddling on him. A younger brother.

The brother he never had.

"I peed in the bed," he whispered in embarrassment, Harry felt his cheeks flush in secondary cringe for the tiny redhead, who must have been about fourteen or really short if he was actually older than that.

"Did you take care of the…um…your bedding?" right, act normal, that's all Harry could do, he didn't get the luxury of mulling over this new life until the parents awoke.

_Parents. _God, what a strange thought.

"Y-yeah…I had the bad dream again, and it just kinda happened even though I went to the loo before I slept like you said, I'm sorry…" he apologised and Harry couldn't help but feel something in his chest twinge as he petted on the head of unfamiliar red hair awkwardly.

"It's over now, you can um…lay on…my bed I guess…? Just…don't pee on it…?" he said awkwardly – _my bed – _that was a strange thought too. The littler of the two nodded and peeled off Harry, face burning red as he curled up in the large bed, leaving Harry to scratch his head in bewilderment and contemplate fainting, as he saw an S shaped curse scar on the kid's forehead.

_Holy shit._

_I'm really not the Boy-Who-Lived._

His entire world was spinning, like reality had folded in on itself as the shock waned and the surreal nature of the situation was suddenly more tangible. It left Harry with a lot of difficult implications to deal with, despite hours passing since his silent arrival. Any sound from the birds chirping to herald the new dawn was drowned out by static and internal white-noise as the veteran slumped over the desk and journal, pushing his pounding skull into his palms.

There was no way in hell he'd been _truly_ ready for any of this, he stepped through the Veil of Death, a big part of Harry had no intention of waking up, coming back, or _anything _really. He didn't know what to expect, he was told everything dematerialized there, including _his Sirius _– but Sirius was different, he wasn't the Master of the Hallows. Obviously, they'd been a Harry that existed here before he arrived, and it gave him an uncomfortable sensation that maybe he'd _killed a consciousness _for the sake of a second chance, and felt a little ill, like a changeling child who knew it didn't belong.

Harry's heart sank into his stomach.

"_Boys, breakfast's ready!" _a loud, female voice that was almost musical rang upstairs and snapped him out of his reverie, making Harry inhale sharply.

_There was no way he was ready for this._


	3. Being Harry Potter

_See Prologue for Warnings._

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter_

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**Being Harry Potter**

{Chapter Two}

There was no _being ready _for this, but he was jarred out of his thoughts as the redhead got up and let out a yawn, having gotten more sleep in Harry's bed than his own.

When he awoke, Harry had a much better look at him, he was naturally flush with high spirits and bright eyes – the kind his father must have had – and thankfully better eyesight than Harry's, his hair was fire-truck red that looked more intense than any Weasley barnet he'd ever seen. The boy – Daniel, was his name, wasn't it? His hair was short and intense, but much neater than Harry's, back-combed and tidy, the S-shaped scar being even more prominent, he snapped out of his daze as the soft-featured boy got to his feet.

"I'm getting in that bathroom first!" and just like that, Harry watched him jet out of the room, only to get up minutes later, still overcome in numbness. It was easy to follow after the brother, see where the bathroom was, and wait patiently. No sooner had he jolted out of his spaced-out daze, he shuffled into the tiny bathroom, guessing which snitch decorated toothbrush was his judging from which one was wet and which was unused. He stared rather blankly at himself, searching the too-large pockets of his robe and heading back for what he figured was 'his' room, pawing around for set of inordinately large wizard's robes, in plain black, with a faint green trim that looked more like a Malfoy-garb than one of his own. He slung it on regardless and did his best to let the uncomfortable feeling in his gut wane, large fingers drumming against his dresser until they hit the thin frames of a rectangular pair of glasses. Harry let out a sigh of relief, somewhere between crossing to this place, he'd lost his own, and suspected his wand, which was no longer in his holster – to have suffered a similar fate, along with the invisibility cloak.

Harry supposed he had to give up some things in order to get here, but it all seemed minor in the grand scheme of things, knowing what awaited him downstairs was none other than the family that he'd spent so many nights wishing were alive.

He was surprised just how much he looked like his mother-no, like Harry's mother: she did not birth him, he just took over her son's body and claimed it as his own. He could not call this woman his mother, but seeing her cook with a smile whilst slowly moving her wand to effortlessly control her kitchen utensils…

'_Stand aside—' _

_'Not Harry—' _

Harry tensed and did his best to push out the only thoughts he had about his parents, swallowing thickly and keeping the tears from prickling in his eyes, shakily seating himself at the table and looking faintly unwell.

Before he knew it, his brother was chatting about his plans for the day and exclaiming just how much he was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts and how much fun he and Ron was planning for that year, apparently, he was in his second year, and from the conversation, Harry could gather he was a year ahead and going for third, which helped him figure out his age to be in his early teens despite the body he had both looking and feeling like that of an adult's. What happened that he shot up like a weed? So large and intimidating, not like Dudley, but more like those athletes he used to sneak sidelong glances at when Dudley would watch sports with Vernon, would he have gotten this large in his own world if he'd been cared for properly and given an attentive diet? It was irregular, that as a third year he'd be the size of his father, but he didn't dwell on it too much for the time being.

"What about you Harry? Are you actually going to try and make friends this year?" Daniel inquired, shoving food into his mouth at a rapid pace. 'At least he doesn't talk with his mouth full like Ron' Harry thought with disgust, glancing at his own food, but he suddenly wasn't hungry, the apparent loss of his support network had at last struck him. What about his friends, anyway? Were they missing him back in his reality? Even if it felt natural, and as though he should be there, he couldn't help but think of the things he left behind, it was a moment of selfishness that he'd even walked through the Veil of Death to begin with, a moment of madness, even – if not for the sparkling clarity in which he'd done the deed. It was a fit of nineteen year old selfishness mixed in with an ageless tire that only came from fighting war, and since it had ended, Harry didn't know how to begin as normal. The war was all he knew, and all that lay between himself and the thoughts of all he'd lost was a very tenacious grip he had on his sanity, and even that wore thin.

He went through the Veil of Death because he wanted to die, but this, this was a bonus, a future he didn't see coming before he walked through there, looking for sweet respite.

"I have friends," Harry pointed out weakly, thinking of Hermione and Ron. He doubt much had changed just because he was in a new reality, but did he? He didn't recall any mention of them in the diary he'd been reading, then again, he was starting from before first year, and hadn't even got to the Sorting yet, too entranced by what it was like to be a normal boy complaining about his family.

Daniel snorted "Teachers don't count. Even Hermione says you need friends, and she only hangs around with me and Ron-"- well shit, that sounded like the Hermione he knew.

"-Ron and I," he interrupted, before suddenly realising what his _brother _had just said, after the war, Headmistress McGonagall's mannerisms had rubbed off on Harry just a little bit, enough that his response was automatic.

"I'm friends with Ron and Hermione," Harry stated – faltering as Daniel laughed "-I mean I _know _them…" right, he didn't appear to be bosom buddies with, well, anyone, it seemed. He'd have to consult the diary and skip ahead a little.

"Are you kidding me? You called Hermione a control freak and Ron a lazy bastar-" Harry winced, did he really…?

"Daniel!" jumping, both brothers stared at a suddenly fuming parent "You know I don't like language like that in this house, and Harry-" he leaned back slightly as she quickly turned in his direction "I know you don't like being told what to do, but Hermione is such a sweet girl…" she sighed "I thought you and Ron made up?"

He and Ron fought? Well it's not like they never did, he remembered the Tri-Wizard tournament and other subsequent fallouts and petty squabbles, but this sounded relentless and ongoing, and the more everyone talked, the more he felt his heart plummeting into his feet, and the sudden urge to go and squeeze his parents to see if they were really real and comfort himself with the fact that for each of his losses, he'd at least gained them, but that would be strange, and he was already acting weirdly at the table. This would be one of those missions that Moody would say demands precision, reconnaissance and subtly, even if the little boy within him really, _really _wanted to snuggle his parents, he was already raising eyebrows. So he couldn't, and it was bittersweet in a way.

"Come off it Mum," Daniel protested "You can hardly_ blame_ Harry for how he treats Hermione and Ron. Hermione does constantly try and contradicted him, and Ron calls him names all the time even when he tell him to cram a sock in it," huffed the redhead before tucking into a sugary cereal that made Harry wrinkle his nose, vaguely reminded of Dudley and his love of cocoa-pops before he'd pile on a few extra spoons of sugar – at least Daniel wasn't quite that bad.

"Why…are you friends with them then?" mumbled Harry, if they were that disagreeable in this world, why on Earth were they friends?

"They are my friends," Daniel said simplistically between large gulps of cereal, making Harry sigh and only really finish out of obligation, sneaking glances up at James and Lily – James, who for the entire conversation, just looked really tired as he read _The Daily Prophet _and nursed a large steaming mug of coffee.

Lily gave out a put-upon sigh, would things ever change between her children? Daniel at least, in many ways, despite being the Boy-Who-Lived, made friends easily, and gave her less to worry about in that respect, but Harry….

Harry had always been another matter – neurotic, closed off, and shy about his unnatural height, he was an Amazon of a man from the moment he hit puberty and was the size of Lily in just his first year, so she and James always thought it was something to do with how Harry thought he was perceived. There was always the odd joke about Harry being the long lost great-great relation of Hagrid or something, but Harry never gave off like any of that bothered him, but, Lily supposed – if Harry knew how fragile he'd been as a child, he'd be thankful that he came out so big and strong.

"You should branch out a little, even if your…house isn't the friendliest, who knows, you might end up championing inter-house unity," snorted James semi-derisively, but there was a glitter of humour in his eyes that made Harry relax.

Not the friendliest? But Gryffindors weren't that bad were they? Then, an unwelcome feeling settled with his general discomfort.

_What if he wasn't a Gryffindor here?_

"Yeah right, and have the Slytherins flay him?" Daniel muttered, which confirmed it, as memories of first year flashed before him.

'_Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin…'_

He'd been so close to it in his world, it wasn't farfetched that he ended up there in this world, but shit, out of all the houses, _Slytherin?_

He felt the need to defend himself as he felt the stares of concern flicker in his direction, even James did, over his newspaper and thin black-framed glasses.

"_I'd like to see them try,_" he hissed with a little more venom than intended, making Daniel look at him – startled, he rarely ever saw Harry fired up, but right then he was unaware he was looking into the burning green fires of someone who chewed up and spat out more Slytherins than bore noting, even James paused his paper reading to look at his eldest in surprise, before feeling something prideful swelling in his chest. Harry never spoke of how the house treated him except in the barest of terms, which had James thinking the worst despite Lily's insistent chats with Severus Snape, who said Harry never really did anything or so much as engaged with the house, James _knew _that it couldn't be easy, and that Harry was probably withholding things from everyone including his Head of House. Not that he could blame Harry for that, he gave Snivellous more than enough reasons to resent his sons for the crimes the Marauders did to him – and Harry's physical resemblance probably didn't help matters. So, it was nice to see that Harry had _some _Gryffindor spirit and wasn't taking any of it lying down.

"That's m'boy," grinned James, making Harry tense before returning the man's smile in an almost watery fashion.

_Your boy…_

"Don't encourage fighting," said Lily briskly, setting the pots and pans to start washing themselves – presumably leftover from the night previous, Harry had to chew down his urge to help.

He felt his heart constrict as his mother looked at him in concern – they really did look so much alike.

"Harry dear, you're looking a little pale, why don't you go back upstairs and lay down until Remus and Sirius come over, if you're too sick to come with us to Diagon Alley then we'll just get your school things off your list for you, you look as pale as a sheet," well, Harry was always pale, but she didn't exactly want to say _sallow, _all Harry could do was nod dumbly until Daniel butted in.

"Harry still needs a new wand,"

Harry looked at Daniel wildly for a moment – new wand, what? He planned to search his room for wherever this universe's Harry had kept his and hope it worked, a new wand? Why? Would a new wand even work after he had Voldemort's brother wand in the other world and then the Elder Wand? If Daniel was the Boy-Who-Lived, than that meant the brother-wand was Daniel's, and to be perfectly honest, Harry was content with _not _having his primary magic tool having a sibling relationship with _Voldemort _but it begged the question of if he could even find another wand, remembering the trouble he had in his world. Did this world's Harry have a good wand? Was it easier getting one for him?

"Of all the Quidditch related injuries you could have had, you had to get one that broke your wand _and _skewered you," said Lily in a clipped tone, Harry relaxed a bit, at least he played Quidditch in this world, but he couldn't see himself as a fast seeker in this behemoth of a body.

Wait, _skewered?_

"Skewered?"

"How hard didya hit ya head?" scoffed Daniel, not surprised that Harry had a poor recollection of it.

The end of term game, apparently, Harry was a beater, which, with his body, he wasn't surprised, and from what he gathered, had been hit by bludgers with enough force that his broom snapped and he'd fallen on the ground with a cushioning charm breaking his amazing fall, only to fall on his wand which snapped and partially broke inside of his thigh.

Fucking _ouch, _that _might _explain the many scars and bruising he had, though the scars looked like precise little paper cuts that had been inflicted ad infinitum, all of them the same perfect size and width, making his body look like it went through a cheese-grater in Harry's opinion.

"Of all the positions…" muttered Lily "-_beater…"_

"Now now Lils, you can't deny he's the perfect type for it," said James to Harry's defence, even if he wasn't riveted about Harry playing for Slytherin, he was proud nonetheless.

Lily just grumbled sourly.

Harry was dismissed and blithely made his way back up to the bedroom, his head spinning from the amount of information he absorbed, comforting himself with the bastion of knowledge he could at least gain from a neurotic boy's diary and the evidence around 'his' room. He ran his fingers over the posters which walked away from his fingers sassily as though berating him for touching their printed bodies so absentmindedly. He looked over at the book case and saw the books looked like reference books. _Basic Runes by Selindra Davis, Advanced Charms: Swish, Flick &amp; Duck by L. Evans –_ Harry couldn't help but smile, so his mother was an accomplished woman – he couldn't help but feel proud of her.

_King James Bible, Latin Vulgate Bible – Biblia Sacra Vulgata, Gnostic Grimoire of Gods Volume I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII-_

Geez, these looked like dry reads, but he seemed to have every book in the series, right up to where he couldn't read the roman numerals anymore out of difficulty.

_Biblia Hebracia – Hebrew Bible, The Phurba – Using Your Ritual Dagger in the Field by Solfiere Shugden, Mahabharata – Bhagavad Gita, Minchat Yahuda by Rabbi Yehuda Fetaya, The Beginners Guide to Salt Circles &amp; Demonic Warding by Barbas Conswellar, Demonology 101 by Rev. Hannover, The Great Big Bloody Book O' Demons by Katya Solidad. Saving Your Sins by Henrietta Gray, Holy Charms by Dannius Delandro, The Shaman's Guide to Mystic Herbs by T. L. Yun. Beginner Ghoul Studies by Tsun Lu, __Cleansing &amp; Purging: Your Handy Dandy Potions Guide by Sia Schwemer_

All of these seemed to be following a theme, but made for good reading, he could only wonder what the other Harry had been so interested in, but he found himself enamoured in some of the non-holy texts, wondering how the other-Harry was so interested in all of this, he never found himself particularly Ravenclaw, but diary entries built up and things started making sense to him, even moreso when he found a class schedule and list of school supplies for his third year.

Harry had apparently picked his electives already – Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Ghoul Studies, Ancient Studies and Ancient Runes. He didn't know Ghoul Studies and Ancient Studies really existed as extra-curricular subjects, he was ashamed by how much he didn't know, but with a matured mind he could appreciate it, and interestingly enough – _Muggle Music_ was there at least - a relax class, he sighed with a sense of relief after temporarily freezing in horror – he wasn't part of the _Frog Choir, _he heard the Flitwick of his world could be very strict about it to borderline Snape territory when it came to the perfection of his choir.

He wasn't taking Transfiguration, Astronomy, Arithmacy or thankfully - _Divination, _he shuddered, he was bereft of things that didn't go together so the year looked interesting instead of sticking to script and enduring the same classes all over again. Transfiguration had been notoriously difficult, he was glad to be rid of it, it seemed this world's Harry didn't want to be an auror, and frankly, a decade of fighting dark wizards was enough to be bored of it, and being a ministry stooge was not high on his list of priorities.

Before he knew it, he managed to nod off again, dimension hopping and dying was tiring business, it seemed.

A while later, he wasn't sure how much time had passed, knocking jolted him out of his thoughts as the door slowly creeked open.

"Harry?" the voice made him flinch, his heart hurt a little as he recognised it.

Was it...? He turned and lit up instantly in such a way that the man was startled by Harry's enthuse towards him.

"Remus!"

The werewolf smiled gingerly and made his way inside, Harry did seem a little off - off in the way that he wasn't sulking or speaking his usual monotone, he seemed a lot more active and less lethargic, which was good, but he looked pale. As soon as Remus was close to the bed, Harry couldn't stop himself, and swung his large, strong arms around the man, startling him again, making him wonder what got into Harry. Maybe he really was sick.

"Nice to see you too cub, Lily tells me you were looking a little pale this morning, you still good to go to Diagon Alley with everyone? We can stay here if you'd like, I know you're not big on crowds," said Remus soothingly, letting what he believed to be a mildly sick young wizard hug him from his position on the bed. Harry wasn't often the physically affectionate sort of bloke, so Remus didn't question it, and simply took what he got with a smile.

It took Harry a moment to realize he should cease cuddling on the comfortable man and actually reply, his face heated from his lack of control.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I feel better, I just needed some more rest," he smiled at the man, who again, was a little weirded out by Harry's smiling nature, then again, he and Harry got on the best the most, especially in private, so the tenderness was shocking, but Remus felt warm inside to be privileged to see it. He didn't understand why it was him that Harry was closest with, but he supposed someone had to be, Daniel had Sirius's attentions like moths to flame, the man claimed not to have favourites with his godsons but he so obviously did, and Remus knew it hurt. So, he did what he could, and Harry cared for Remus in turn.

"Well, get your shoes on if you're ready and we'll meet you downstairs and walk to the apparition point," he said, watching Harry kick off his sheets and search for his shoes - gosh, he was a big lad for his age, wasn't he? Remus felt small just standing alongside him.

Harry found a soft squishy pair of leathers and slid into them, walking down to see Daniel, James and Lily there- his mouth going dry as he saw Sirius Black just standing there, _grinning._

_You died._

_You died because of me._

_And now you're smiling at me._

He wanted to bound over and drink in the man's scent and hold him, squeeze him until he squeaked, and burrow his face in his chest, instead he just felt his eyes water, helping his sickly looking appearance and maintain the story to cover up his abject shock and occasional odd behaviour.

"I'd hug ya kid but Danny says your sick," grinned Sirius, Harry just nodded dumbly, and watched himself get completely ignored by the man as he chattered to James and Daniel, leaving him to hang back with Sirius and sidelong apparate to Diagon Alley.

_I want to hug you._

_God damnit Sirius you're right here and I just want to hold you._

Remus noted his longing stare to his Godfather, and just smiled apologetically.

"He and Daniel can get really swept up in it all cant they? I hope you don't mind spending the day with me instead," it seemed the groups were already chosen - James, Daniel and Sirius were going as one and Lily, Harry and Remus were the other, then they'd meet up at Fortesque's icecream parlour since both groups had massively divergent interests and shopping would take twice as long if everyone stuck together. They went to Gringotts and Harry took possession of his key, stating he was responsible enough not to lose it, just so he could have it in case he needed impromptu purchases when at Hogwarts or something. Lily gave him a look but conceded, when Harry pointed out it could help him learn how to manage his money - he didn't know what else to really do but play along. He was dealt a new set of cards - a new universe, and it was time to make use of it, so after a bank trip, they parted ways.

Lily watched her son with curiosity as he doddered around Flourish &amp; Blotts, Lily wanted to stay there a little longer and make enquiries on her book sales, leaving Remus and Harry together after Harry picked up his books adding _Runes - Supplementary Reading For Your Warding Skills!, Heathens &amp; Hexes, Egyptian Curses: A History, The Big Book of Ghoul References _to his pile.

He brought them almost immediately just so they could hurry to Ollivander's wand shop, he was itching to get a wand and have a means of defending himself again. Remus ended up sending Lily back out to go and grab some drinks since it looked like they'd be there a while when Harry was _still _trying out wands even after Lily finished her business at the book store.

Remus was almost nodding off in his seat until Ollivander scowled and scratched his head.

"Well Mr Potter it seems a custom fit is necessary, it's difficult to fit a wand for every wizard in one mere shop," he grinned toothily and uneased Harry, who followed after the man once he beckoned him to come behind the counter.

"Your standard wand core is made of dragon heartstring, phoenix feather or unicorn hair, though including and not limited to kneazle hair, veela hair and..._other _magical beasts. In each display case is a wand core material, I'd like you to tell me which feels warmest and more receptive to the touch, yes? Take your time,"

Remus watched with curiosity, jostled out of boredom. A custom wand? He never knew anyone except the odd auror with one and wandlore was so very interesting to him, so he paid attention.

Harry walked over to the phoenix feather, honestly expecting some reaction there considering his past wand, and Ollivander's eyes glinted knowingly as Harry's face fell and he went over to the other materials, though the veela hair and noncommon cores were labelled "Volatile - Not For Standard Use," - he tried his hand with kneazle hair and everything else, he thought he felt something at the veela strands, but shook his head - no, it was negative. "Any response is good response" did not apply when it came to custom wands, it had to align with your magic, and Harry Potter appeared to be struggling - enough that Ollivander was looking thoughtful and consulting his other guides that he knew other wandmakers abided by to see what other options they could have before he had to turn the older Potter away.

"Ah! This, this is it," said Harry in surprise, Ollivander raised a brow - Dragon Heartstring...? Curious, those tended to go to powerhouse wands, the sorts of wands he'd sold to Minerva McGonagall, Lucius Malfoy, and those inclined to do heavy duty spell work in duelling types of fields, curious _indeed._

"Dragon heartstring you favour? Interesting, it's a similar process for wood types, be true to yourself Mr Potter, let no appearance affect the judgement you make,"

Harry drifted to the blackthorn, then aspen, the pure white ivory nature of it attracted him but Ollivander's words dissuaded him, no he wasn't here for beauty, even if he felt a mild draw to it, the man appeared to have no Elder wood, which was probably just as well, Harry had enough of Elder wands to last him a four lifetimes, cypress - but then finally - a heavy feeling in his chest that demanded he pick - ah...cherry...?

"Cherry wood Mr Potter, are you quite sure?" Harry turned to Mr Ollivander as he said this, and the wand maker bore a pensive look.

"I know I'm going to regret asking, but why wouldn't I be, what's wrong with cherry?" he asked, in all honesty, cherry sounded benign and unexciting as wood for wands went and Remus was inclined to agree, until Ollivander let out a hum, tapping his chin in thought.

"Well Mr Potter, cherry is not to be underestimated, no. The wood of the cherry blossom tree...it is quite a rare wand wood, not the rarest, but quite rare. You will find that in some places, the wizarding students of Mahoutokoro even _revere _such wands, quite a fascinating culture, yes-"

Mahoutokoro? That sounded Japanese, a Japanese wizarding school - Harry could only assume as Ollivander blathered.

"Yes, they understand what the Western wand buyer often does not, you see Mr Potter, they are not merely tools of beauty as Aspen wands are also mistaken for, no no, they are more than frivolous or ornamental pieces, cherry wood often makes a wand of utterly lethal power, whatever the core, but teamed with a powerhouse like _dragon heartstring, _the wand should never be paired with a wizard who has anything less than exceptional self control and strength of mind, tell me Mr Potter, do you believe you have these qualities?"

Harry's mouth went dry, he looked at Remus who was absorbing everything rather wide-eyed, head snapping to turn to Harry and see what he said, Ollivander had never been so blunt before but then again, Remus had little interaction with the man save for when he had his own wand. Harry was hardly a master Occlumens, did that mean he didn't have strength of mind...? Did he need a different wand wood? Then again, Harry knew he could overcome the Imperius curse, and if that wasn't strength of mind, what was? His brow furrowed and he spoke in a steel tone that raised every werewolf instinct Remus had.

"A man taken over by the destructive tendencies of his wand, of power, hardly deserves to be called a man at _all_,"

Ollivander regarded him curiously, his eyes roving over the elder Potter appraisingly, before -

_Pluck._

"Ah! What-" hissed Harry, glaring at the man as a hand flew to his head protectively where Ollivander plucked out a hair.

"It's rare I do this, but it's rare I ever make such a wand, a hair or blood may ease the binding of these materials, it'll be a tricky wand, and may ease your usage of it too - blood is a little overwhelming and poor to use in wands, especially ones rare enough to warrant more than one core material, hair is fine yes yes - just let me take your measurements boy, you get bigger every time I see you-" Harry flushed as tape measures flew around him once more and pulled up the measurements they took when Harry came in the shop and the man made a note of it.

"Your wand shall be finished in exactly one week prior to the start of the new term, yes, just in time for Hogwarts I should think, and twenty galleons I believe,"

"Highway robbery!" exclaimed Remus, making Ollivander raise a brow.

"For a wand of this nature, it's to be expected," the man didn't deny the steep price.

Harry sighed and handed the money over beforehand, nodding a sincere thank you to the man regardless, unsure to gage what he said about his wand and couldn't help but flush awkwardly, his teenage mind and adult humour couldn't help but plunge his brain to the gutter.

"With your height and power one should expect an inordinately large wand, yes, large and long, flexible, but ah - try not to break it," he chuckled, waving them out as Remus took in Harry's embarrassment and snorted.

"Mind in the gutter?"

Considering Remus was his professor before, Harry went a brighter red at him recognising lewd humour when the man existed in an asexual zone within his mind, making Remus laugh as they exited.

"Shut it," he said, face coloured brightly.

"I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom, we were in there a while, you mind waiting while I nip into the pub?" said Remus, Harry nodded. "You can wait inside if you like,"

"Mm, I might just stay outside and take a look at Quality Quidditch Supplies and window shop, I'll be in sight-range," grinned Harry.

Harry watched Remus retreat into the Leaky Cauldron with quick-pace, feeling bad for making the werewolf hold in his need while they spent so damn long in the shop, and his mother, after getting drinks, had quickly gone to peel Daniel away from fighting with Draco Malfoy in the shop itself over the latest broomstick. Then, he felt his senses sharpen as he glanced over at Knockturn Alley, just a little curious to see if there was anything useful over there like the vanishing cabinet in Borgin &amp; Burkes, but he knew he didn't have long, and he caught the eye of a hag who grinned at him and put a spidery hand on her own face to blow him a kiss, making Harry cringe right down to his core and quickly look away to see a retreating, hunched figure. He decided to take a few strides and lean on a building close to the entry way of the dark alley to get a better look, it was probably some poor hunchback who didn't feel comfortable in the brightness of Diagon or another hag, Knockturn Alley still sort of gave him the willies, but he felt every iota of rational sense leave as he got a better look. He could only see the back of the man, but he was hunched in a way that looked off even from a distance, seeing a moving lump where the hunch was, it should have been making noise - whatever was in there, but the odd hairy man was unnaturally quiet.

Muffilato charm maybe? No! It was a_ silencing charm!_

Harry's senses went off even more, and then, he saw a tiny shoe'd foot sticking out from the man's cloak.

Then Harry James Potter _saw red._

His long legs moved him faster than his mind could catch up, grabbing the man's cloak and throwing it off to show a child strapped to his back, who was screaming their head off, their little face was red, but no sound was coming out, and the silencing charm was obviously placed on them. Harry was now _in _Knockturn Alley, slamming the entire force of his behemoth body into the man's back to make him crash onto his stomach, snatching the visible wand from his holster and throwing it as far as he could.

Then he realized the man he'd clobbered was inordinately strong, and quickly plucked the screaming child off his back and threw them to the side alley, just as the strong figure snarled viciously and rolled over with Harry on his back, changing so he was above the teen.

Harry found himself staring into familiar, dark eyes. Merciless eyes.

If Harry had seen red before, he was beyond hell's reckoning in terms of raw rage right then.

The man - no, beast, looked enthralled and enraged by Harry daring to interrupt his _child snatching._

It was a feat of accidental magic similar to his outburst in Dumbledore's office that blew the unnaturally strong beastman off of his body as people from Diagon Alley peered down into Knockturn Alley at all of the noise, but not daring to go in.

Harry ran at the hair man, diving with all the strength he could muster as he swung fist for fist at the man, he felt something scratch his neck, but he was too numb with rage just from who the man was and what he had tried to do, that he couldn't stop.

**"Harry-!"**

**"Stop! Harry! What're you- HARRY!"**

He could hear Remus and Lily in the distance, then Sirius, James and Daniel, who came running when Harry's name was shouted through the alleys, each swing of Harry's unnaturally strong body sent the body swinging to one side. If he punched left, the hairy man's jaw slacked and sprayed blood to the left as his entire form swung that way, even though they were both matched in terms of hulking forms, the man swayed like a puppet under each devastating blow, face becoming malleable underneath each blow and spraying blood flecks in every direction.

"**YOU DISGUSTING-"**

Punch right.

"**SICK-"**

Punch left.

"**PIECE OF-"**

Uppercut right up the jaw - the punch to end all punches that practically sent the entire hairy body through the air until it splattered unceremoniously on the tile, bleeding profusely, if not for the copious body hair, it would have been an unrecognisable body.

"**SHIT!"**

Daniel had never seen Harry so incensed, in fact, it was a little frightening, but he couldn't tear his eyes away - the aurors of the group, James and Sirius, dove into Knockturn first towards Harry to subdue him, but he was slumped on his knees, knuckles covered in blood and hyperventilating from how much rage had poured out of his body.

A small child shuffled out of the side-alley where they'd been tossed, before clinging to Harry's sleeve as he stayed frozen and knelt, hands limp at his sides and covered in blood as the silenced child wailed and tried to speak, their face red. James had enough sense to cast a _finite incantatem _on the boy so he could speak, his childish wail piercing the air as Remus and Sirius made their way to the figure Harry had beaten to a bloody pulp.

"THE HAIRY MAN TRIED TO STEAL ME! DID YOU GET HIM? I WANNA GO HOME!" he all but screamed, and James, still struggling to make sense of everything, turned to the figure that his son had beaten the living daylights out of, eyes widening as his usually sensible friend swore, eyes wide, before kneeling down and checking for a pulse the muggle way and casting a diagnostic spell, the onlookers watching from a distance in shock.

"It's Fenrir Greyback," said Sirius gravely, glancing between everyone, but the child's wails seem to make the situation fall together, as everyone was ready to tear into Harry for going absolutely apeshit, and his anger was truly unprecedented, but it was hard to treat him as a common criminal Knockturn Alley thug considering who the victim was.

"...And he's not breathing," added Remus quietly.

The other aurors were called, and the area became quickly cordoned off, yet, for a _manslaughter, _Harry didn't feel like he was being treated particularly badly, not at all, and things made even more sense when his first statement reached James and Sirius after Alastor Moody cursed the boy out for lashing out in the street, and then praising his vigilance in spotting the abduction.

"**HARRY JAMES POTTER WHAT ON EARTH POSSESSED YOU TO FISTFIGHT FENRIR GREYBACK?!" **Lily's voice could make even hardened aurors wince as they sat in custody.

"...I thought he was a hairy pervert stealing a small child and acted accordingly, turns out I wasn't far off the mark,"

They were stunned into silence for a while, and Harry James Potter found himself subject to a Ministry trial for the second time in his life, but not for the use of underage magic, no, this was for the manslaughter of Fenrir Greyback, as everyone tried to deduce what exactly happened.

So much for laying low.

* * *

_End Chapter._

_Damn that was whopper sized! I appreciate a review if you're enjoying this, ya know? I didn't want it to be a bore right the way through. So here's some spice. Harry just cant stay out of trouble, whatever the universe...eheh. If you have any input on what you'd like to see or general ideas, I do read them. So R&amp;R my friends._


	4. Again, From the Top

_**See Prologue for Full Warnings**_

_**Probable Draco/Harry/Luna Harry/Many and/or/including HP/Sirius. Yes. HP/SB. Warning you again if you can't be bothered to go back to the prologue.**_

_**Implications HP/Remus here and there if you squint.**_

_***Additional Author's Note [PLEASE READ]: **I mentioned triggering content in the prologue's AN but I didn't specify for want of not spoiling things, however I feel the need to warn you that upon exploring the memories and world of the Harry that existed in the AU before our own, the memories will get dark and sexually triggering, even though I don't write non-con explicitly, ever - it may be a subject that ends up getting handled, I do my best to do that sensitively. The only sexy smut I write is consensual, so you don't be forced to sit through too much of it in depth but the feelings surrounding it and subsequent aftermath emotionally and such may be something you're uncomfortable with. Consider yourself warned. It may not be in this chapter, or indeed until a few chapters later, but still._

_**Note 2: Harry Potter is set in England. The author is British herself. 16 is the age of consent here, and 17 is the legal age of adulthood for wizards, if smut from 16+ intimacy bothers you, my sincerest apologies. Harry is also mentally nineteen, so there's that too...**_

_**Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter**_

xxx

* * *

**Again, From the Top**

**{Chapter Three}**

To say it was a clusterfuck would be an absolute understatement, an assault resulting in daylight murder was all anybody was talking about, nobody sans the aurors that placed him under arrest knew exactly what transpired, and the denizens of Knockturn Alley did not take kindly to the Ministry presence in the cordoned off section of Fenrir's demise. The custody block was small and constricting, the coldness was unforgiving too, there was just a chair welded to the ground and a small bunk. In any lifetime, Harry had not formally been arrested, so it was still unnerving, but the presence of the aurors actually smiling at him put him at ease, since he was probably the youngest person they'd ever kept this long in a custody block, and many seemed sympathetic though wary.

Lily was too frenzied to be angry much longer, she couldn't bring herself to see what Harry had done as wrong, though it was an unfortunate besmirch upon his soul that he'd have to bare at such a tender age, that she could not help but look at him. He looked impassive, but the way his eyes darted around the room and the way he sought the timid smiles from younger aurors like Kingsley Shacklebolt was enough to tell her that her son was nervous and probably scared.

"Harry Potter, in light of the public discourse surrounding your actions against one Fenrir Greyback, the guys upstairs have refused to grant bail, especially as your address is listed as cloaked under Ministry guidelines for the safety of Daniel Potter, I'm sorry kid – even with your age and the lack of wand, we can't let ya go until your hearing without people causing a massive stink," said an auror with a small goatee and rather downcast eyes that just made Harry smile at him weakly, it wasn't his fault, after all. The silence that settled after the fact was just filled with everyone in the room glancing at one another sadly and nervously, as though expecting one of the Potters to burst and snap in rage at the verdict, as it seemed Harry was going to be charged with a crime after all.

"Honey, I know it's scary, but they've been discussing a date and Albus has pulled some strings, so you won't be here very long, alright? Unfortunately because of your father's work, he won't be there at your hearing but he can take care of you before then, you'll have Sirius around too, and I'll come as much as I can, okay? Don't be frightened," said Lily soothingly, reaching her smooth hand to his large one to give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm not scared," said Harry, keeping his voice from wavering and just savouring the kindness from his mother, looking up to where James Potter stood - his brow furrowed in thought, unsure of what to think of his son, except that he had to protect him, at any and all costs.

"Son, you understand these are serious charges, right? I mean it was _broad daylight…" _James emphasized "-even if Albus manages to smooth this over by some feat of Merlin, you know this is gonna be with you forever, right?" there was a scolding tone to the usually light-hearted prankster, his auror-mode was in full force, trying to balance out with the role of responsible father as Harry actually felt a little dwarfed by it, shrinking a little in his place.

"I understand," he mumbled, truth be told, he was used to getting away with a lot, and back in his _first life _– as he'd began to think of it, he was sure he had a litany of things on his public and private records due to his illustrious years at Hogwarts filled with death, deceit and war at every turn, but he was the _Boy-Who-Lived, _sans the year of his trial for underage wizardry, he wasn't used to facing this level of consequence anymore, not after the war, where people fell like _flies…_

Then again, he hadn't killed them with his fists, either, had he?

Murder wasn't on his mind when he attacked Greyback either, knocking him out raw and getting the child off of him was the first thing – but then he found he just couldn't stop, out of sheer rage for all the things the man had done in his first life, but to onlookers, he probably looked inhumanely incensed, and it would not bode well for him at all.

"I think what your father is _trying _to say, on top of it being on your records, is… I mean…" Lily sighed, getting closer to Harry now, the sternness in her eyes had softened to a kind of pity and sadness as she regarded her boy.

"It's the kind of thing that'll stay with _you _forever, in your mind, you know? Nobody is calling you a murderer honey, you've always been the most docile boy, you've never even raised a finger against Daniel like most little boys do with their brothers growing up. You have always been tender," she said with a little frown "-Are you….alright…? We can probably arrange for a Mind Healer to come in since you're still a minor and all…"

Mind Healer…?

Then it hit him – _you killed someone you thick prat, of course they're concerned, they probably think you could go into shock or be traumatised or something._

Harry cast a look at the drying crimson around his knuckles that he'd missed when wiping them against himself, he might have had memories of the war, but killing someone barehanded was still new to him, but he wasn't sure if he could benefit from a Mind Healer – it's not like he could tell them everything anyway, and he didn't want to waste anyone's time, so he shook his head a negative.

"It's okay, I'll be okay, I think," he picked at this fingernails a bit and sighed.

"I mean, I'm not _happy _with what I did, but… I don't think… in this case… that I'll lose a lot of sleep over it. I can't really find much in me to feel bad for a child snatcher," he added.

Lily let out a long sigh before leaning over to kiss her eldest on the head, which startled Harry, having never had that done before, not even from the pseudo-mother he'd found in the Weasley matriarch back in his other life.

"He has thick skin, like a Potter, he'll be fine Lils, me and Sirius are gonna keep an eye on him until the hearing," said James sagely, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I need to get everything in order and talk to Amelia and Albus, do be good in here Harry, don't make this any worse, we want you back home as soon as possible," she said softly, squeezing her son's hand one more time before moving to her husband and taking leave for the Ministry.

* * *

One week of porridge and juice was enough for Harry to be sick of his custody cell, though he did manage to have more time with his father, it was loosely monitored, which was irritating, because Harry couldn't so much as pick his own nose without someone watching. It was bothersome, to say the least, but what was worse, was the fact Sirius and James watched him together, but Sirius, whilst friendly, didn't seem to go beyond a surface level of affection with Harry, and for someone that loved him to pieces back in his other life, it really hurt.

Harry had to do his best to remind himself that Sirius didn't owe him anything, and in truth, the best reception he got was from Remus, but since he took down Greyback, the man hadn't visited him _once. _The headmaster was able to move his trial to as soon as possibly available so he didn't have to spend longer than he had to within a custody block, while they scrambled to get witnesses in and the head of the Werewolf Registry in time for his hearing. Harry could at least be happy with his father, who, was awkward yes, but not as awkward as Sirius, the two could joke together at least, and whittle time playing Exploding Snap, and since working for the Ministry, they registered their animagus forms, so they were free to talk to Harry about it all - who was entranced by the process.

It seemed easier than talking about Harry himself, because the pair never seemed to know what to do with him.

Eventually though, a healer did see Harry, - just a mandatory visit, to check he didn't have any long term damage, was treated well in custody, wasn't too traumatized for the trial, and was otherwise in good shape, needing to take inventory of any injuries he may have sustained from Greyback, though admittedly this should have happened immediately, Harry's deceptively good state was enough not to warrant immediate concern.

"Right this way Mr Pott- ah, Potter Junior, I should say," elaborating as James' head whipped round to look at the matronly woman who entered the custody block. Harry nodded stiffly, having been told that this was part of the process, and let Sirius walk him rather silently, noticing him merely use Harry as an out in order to talk to the woman and comment upon her womanly charms. It was either that, or being ignored, but it rubbed Harry the wrong way, and made him draw his eyebrows into a discontent frown as the lady - Healer Rayna, led him to a miniature hospital wing of sorts, instructing him to get on the bed as Sirius leaned on the archway of the door.

"Mr Black, if you don't mind, physicals are _private," _said the Healer in a clipped tone, clearly annoyed by the man and his presence.

"You wound me, besides, Harry doesn't mind," said Sirius flippantly, glancing to Harry under the impression that he had a shot with the attractive lady and expecting Harry to back him up, and just that look - that look that Sirius wanted something from him, was enough to make Harry nod.

"See?"

"Fine," she huffed, before turning to Harry. "Upper robe and shirt off, lad."

Harry turned a funny shade of red, and Sirius let out his bark-like laugh that Harry missed hearing so much that he took his upper robe in a daze before bumbling with the buttons, letting Sirius's awful, _awful _pick-up lines wash over him - along with Healer Rayna's clipped, cold, curt responses. Harry didn't have the sense to really be unnerved or insecure beyond a certain point since he'd done this a lot for Madame Pomfrey in Hogwarts, and he wasn't used to claiming the damage done to the body as his own, so he didn't take into account the worrisome amount of damage it had.

The Healer's eyes went wide before her lips thinned in disapproval, her wand swishing around his skin in an almost angry fashion, Sirius wasn't looking, eyes still set on the woman's derrière.

"My word, you're going to make my job difficult today, aren't you Mr Potter?"

Sirius's head snapped up at that, blue eyes settling on Harry's form, his large, hulking form atop a white table, sitting far too gingerly and shyly for someone of his stature, he let in a sharp intake of breathe, he had no idea where Harry inherited such a physique from, James was always fit as a child but Harry was something else. He had _back muscles, _he had _biceps, _he had _abs - _he had _height _\- he was a behemoth of a boy.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Harry mumbled unsure, quietly as the woman glanced up at him in surprised, appraisingly.

"Fifteen year olds don't look like _you _Mr Potter," she laughed quietly, despite aggressive wand movements that were taking inventory of his scars and roughly when he acquired them, all of them having huge gaps in between their dates that began to frantically etch themselves on a floating scroll of parchment.

Sirius couldn't stop staring, and it was making Harry uncomfortable as blue eyes locked on green ones - just how much did that neurotic lad hide? He had to talk with James.

"Head back," Harry tilted it back and let her examine his neck, bereft of marks, further onto his pectoral muscles were angry claw-like scratches going diagonally on his chest, they looked angry, and like they'd scar too, and were new, a little red.

"Any deeper and you'd need stitches on those, it's gonna scar," she floated a salve over onto it which took out the angry colouration, in the heat of the fight, he'd forgotten Fenrir got a good strike in.

"Lucky for you Greyback wasn't in wolf-form when he did those or you'd have definitely turned, you may display some wolf-like tendencies, have you noticed any?" she asked out of curiosity, documenting the injury.

"Smells seem clearer, but not much else," he said with a little shrug, honestly not noticing much change, but he'd been stuck in one place for ages now, so he hadn't really had a chance to see.

"Harry..." said Sirius in a testy tone, Harry flinched and looked away from him, he couldn't explain whatever Sirius wanted to know "-I'll need to talk to James about this,"

Harry just sighed, defeated.

"I know."

He really was starting to despise the fact he and Sirius weren't close.

* * *

Sirius Black lied, it wasn't something he often did, not about anything serious, anyway - yes, excuse the pun, but he knew the elder Potter brother was an incredibly solitary boy, the words _never nude _came to mind when it came to him, he always locked his door, always shut them given any opportunity, always liked his robes to hang, never once wore short sleeves, at least, in Sirius's presence. The thing that stung the most, was the complete look of resignation mixed with betrayal and hurt that Harry seemed to perpetually fire at him, at first it made him angry, what had he _done?! _Nothing! Nothing to deserve that! But maybe that was the problem, because Harry was not a thick lad, he could tell Sirius favoured Daniel, and in truth he didn't mean to, but Harry so often reminded him of Regulus minus the prejudice that it fucking hurt to watch his brotherly relationship with Daniel.

It reminds Sirius what could have been, had he tried a little harder with his own brother.

So Sirius Black lied, well, it wasn't a lie per se, just withholding the truth, he didn't plan to do that forever of course, but with the hearing to worry about and what the fallout was from a werebeast like Fenrir Greyback being taken out of the game still occurring, this was the least of their worries, all of those marks were thankfully very old, and from the dates on the healer's scroll, massively spaced out, it was like a freakish coincidence that they were all the same length and width over his body. Perhaps he just hurt himself with meticulous order, it wouldn't surprise him, Harry was awfully neurotic and...strange.

Yes, he would tell James and Lily, once everything died down, anything to stop Harry looking at him like - _that - _like he'd just hexed his non existent puppy. Anything to lessen the severity of that emerald stare, that stare of _why, what have I done, why don't you like me, please don't tell, do you hate me that much?_

So Sirius Black didn't tell.

Not immediately.

Soon enough, the trial date came, and mercifully quickly, with men like Albus Dumbledore moving mountains for the Potter family.

It was a relief from the bland walls and endless games of gobstones with his father, not that Harry wasn't grateful for every second, but there was a limit to what the auror could bring into the custody cell and the time away from Lily was getting to him now and then.

The awkwardness with Sirius was just unbearable.

All Harry wanted to do was have the man shut up and let him curl himself around his body, squeezing, holding, nuzzling, _inhaling _\- everything, without being questioned or judged or pushed off, but he couldn't risk it with things how they were, they apparently had a barely existent relationship, not how they were when Harry was a baby, but then again, he didn't remember that, just what James had told him, of course - who wasn't blind and could notice the tension between the pair.

The courtroom itself played into the hands of history, almost exactly the same as the one Harry had found himself in when trialled for the use of underage sorcery in his previous lifetime - use of a Patronus Charm on dementors in Little Whinging, Surrey. It'd be too soon if he ever had to see one of those bloody things again, and just with the kind of atmosphere the courtroom had, each seat was filled, his eyes landing on people who were vaguely familiar until he felt himself being given a mental dressing down, not in the lewder sense but rather as though someone was getting his measure just from the way he held himself.

He met eyes with Lucius Malfoy, and automatically they narrowed, matching his stare evenly, causing a noticeable upturn of his lip.

_Don't smile at me you evil twit._

Opposite to him, parallel was a stern looking woman, impassible, stony, stern enough to send McGonagall a run for her money - reminding Harry vaguely of someone he knew at Hogwarts until James followed his stare and murmured under his breathe as he led Harry to his stand, he couldn't partake in proceedings, being too close to him despite being at the scene, the same for Sirius. They took memories, but that was about it, they couldn't testify or speak at all, and were since ruled out.

"_Augusta Longbottom, Harry," _

Harry did his best not to wince, he didn't know anything good about her, she was a formidable lady.

The garish pink made him wince before he could stop it, and the reaction did not go unmissed by James and Sirius, who could only glance in thinly veiled amusement at Harry's automatic aesthetic, visceral distaste to the pink, stout, lump of a woman near Minister Fudge.

_Dolores Umbridge. _There was a face Harry didn't want to see again, but disturbingly, the toad-like woman was grinning enough to reveal the lipstick stains on her teeth, grinning at _Harry _\- and it was enough to make him mildly ill, he didn't want to think why she'd be doing that.

_Evil witch. _

He did his best not to scowl, remembering the lesson that had been burned into him.

_I will not tell lies._

He couldn't really recognise anyone else - there was a somebody-Diggle, and more faces he didn't recognise, he didn't feel relief seeing Albus Dumbledore, the man wasn't there to defend him, he was doing the ruling, apparently, alongside Amelia Bones, to make sure there was no _bias, _relief flooded him as Lily came into view, not taking a seat but rather, striding confidently across the Wizengamot court floor to take side next to Harry, her eyes glittering with strength, and power.

"The trial for a Mr Harry James Potter is now in session," a small man with a scroll was reading his charges, an auror, who looked like he'd been doing this for trials all day and could nod off on the spot.

_"_Mr Harry James Potter, you stand accused, of on the 20th of August, 5:15PM, engaging in a fist fight with one Fenrir Greyback, and on the 20th of August, 5:30PM, Fenrir Greyback was pronounced dead at the scene, in Knockturn Alley, between forth and fifth avenue," said the tiny little man, eyes widening as he read the charge.

"This falls under manslaughter in the eyes of the Wizengamot court," a ripple of murmurs spread throughout the jury.

"Do you understand the charges for which you were held in custody and are standing trial for, Mr Potter?" another voice, this one, Dumbledore, spoke - looking sagely and seriously over his half-moon glasses, as though disappointed in Harry.

"I do," his throat was dry, he mustered the will to speak, Lily put a hand on his shoulder, and met Dumbledore's stare with equal ferocity, at this, a small item held on a cushion that Harry had never seen before was brandished, it was a tiny goblet, with a tiny flame in it, making him blink in confusion.

"As you are a minor being charged for a major crime the court has deemed it fit not to try you as an adult so Veritaserum will not be administered, you will, instead, but asked to take an oath, are you okay to do this Mr Potter?"

"Yes sir," he said, trying not to let nerves get the better of him as the cushion was brought near and Lily gently told him to sign the scroll the small man had read from previously, where there was a blank space and a long line for him to write on, dictating that he understood what was being told and that you will tell to the truth to the best of your ability, the contract was loose, but magically binding, he signed it and put the scroll into the tiny fire within the goblet, letting it puddle into ash within the silver cup, the fire dying and the cup glowing to signify it had taken the contract, reminding Harry of a miniature Goblet of Fire.

"I see, and what is your plea to the court, Mr Potter?"

"Guilty as charged," he said flatly, levelling his stare with the man.

_I will not cower._

_I've come too far to do that here._

* * *

Harry didn't think he'd be able to be any more impressed with the kind of woman Lily Evans-Potter was until he saw what exactly she was doing being in the stand beside him, unlike Sirius and James, she only witnessed the aftermath, and her memories didn't directly to pertain what happened, and she made a point of staying away from the unbiased side of the judiciary proceedings so that Harry would not face the court alone.

It took him a moment to figure out, but Lily was going to defend him, as Dumbledore had during his trial for underage wizardry.

"Lily Evans-Potter acting defence, requests the attention of the Wizengamot court," that was the quickest way to silence murmurs.

Heads turned, people were admittedly displeased, the purebloods keeping their chairs were, anyway, and James could only look in slight awe of his wife, the way she refused to back down, unwavering, despite knowing how little the majority of the court probably thought of her, it was at this point that however Ravenclawesque his wife was, she was ultimately a Gryffindor, and had bravery that was not to be trifled with.

"Speak," Amelia Bones was nothing if not fair, though, and did not view Ms Potter in a bias light.

"If it pleases the court, we would like to view the memory provided as witness testimony by the impartial party," because, if witness memories were available, Lily knew they were preferred as much as, if not more-so, than the memory provided by the actual perpetrator, because there was less likelihood of the memory being warped in any way, such as if the perpetrator wasn't entirely mentally sound, of course, it wasn't often there was multiple witnesses to a crime, but this wasn't planned, and was rather public.

Harry at first had to wonder if his mother was doing a disservice and did his best not to panic or raise a brow, under the assumption that surely his own memory would be best, _right? _Then again, Lily appeared to know what she was doing, and the court granted her it, they planned to view the events anyway as part of the evidence, but it helped to start with it and be the one to request it rather than the court itself, since Harry had plead guilty, it also looked less like stalling and deception on their part, and it may incline the court to be more merciful.

Harry watched with curiosity as the memory of an unnamed shopkeeper was given, who actually witnessed to altercation from start to finish from his window, providing more than even what James and Sirius probably could, albeit with an annoying windowpane in the way, everything was startlingly clear.

The penseive presented looked large and had to be rolled in, there was some strange device labelled and omnoculzoomer, which to be honest looked more like a medieval projector, facing the blank empty left wall of the courtroom which rolled down a plain white tapestry to play the memory. Harry did his best not to visually wince, looking at himself was strange, did he look that scary when he was angry? He'd never seen what he looked like when he was angry, not from the outside, not like this, and if Lily was at all shaken by it, she wasn't showing it.

Sirius couldn't hide his wince, but he and James were unable to blink, mouths parted slightly to form a rather shocked and uncomfortable "Oh" at witnessing the violence from start to finish, even James hadn't quite seen his son so _incensed._

_The body swung under the sheer force of each punch which should not have come from a mere boy, the fact a werebeast like Fenrir Greyback could be taken down so thoroughly barehanded would have been unbelievable to the court, had it not been plating before their very eyes. Harry Potter displayed unnatural strength, unnatural reflex, the vision of him throwing Fenrir's wand was interesting, proving he had a decent sense not to turn this into a cursing duel, the very first thing he'd done aside from that was to throw the child off of Fenrir and encourage him to hide._

_Fenrir and Harry being nose to nose, rolled over, glowering, the rage._

_Fenrir's bony yet strong hands, fixed with claw-like nails diving for Harry._

_**'Y****o****u disgusting'** punch **'Sick!' **punch '**Piece' **punch '**Of' **punch '**Shit!' **_

The memory played audio that had been enhanced for the benefit of the court with an amplification charm, the chilling words of memory-Harry washing over the room. The memory ended with Sirius and James rushing over to pull Harry off, the child waddling over to him to grab at him.

_'THE HAIRY MAN TRIED TO STEAL ME.'_

_'DID YOU GET HIM?'_

_'I WANNA GO H-OOOOOOOME...!'_

The memory mercifully ended, and there was an uncomfortable silence in the room where Harry could feel tens of eyes on him at once, measuring him, fear and disbelief permeating, it was then that Lily saw the cross face of someone on the werewolf registry committee.

"There is no disputing the act my son committed, nor is the intent," she turned to Harry.

"Harry, what was going through your head at the moment you saw Greyback with the child?"

Harry couldn't erase the is-the-court-stupid? look from his face, and explained in a way that he hoped wasn't patronizing.

"Getting the child away...? Would any decent witch or wizard let a child get snatched away in front of them..? Fenrir Greyback or not I would have done it the same, and I'd do it again, if I had to," he was firm, and usually such a thing would be incriminating - _I'd commit the crime again, _but the wails of the child were still washing over the hall, Lily refused to look at Harry as he said that, she understood where he was coming from, she might have even agreed with it, but her eldest so readily to repeat such a violent action as the one they'd just witnessed was still wholly unsettling to the woman who saw him in diapers.

"I'd like to call up the testimonial memory of the Vulnerable Witness," said Lily, clearing her throat and getting everyone's attentions again as the memory shifted, now, this was one Harry didn't see either, and so he watched with interest.

"Granted, play it,"

The frozen scene began to play, from the perspective of a child, so there were many adult knees in the video that a few smiles spread in the courtroom if only to lighten up the heaviness of the case. Tiny hands stretched out from the child themself in their memory to crawl up a stool at Florean Fortesques, the child then counting his little change knut for knut and handing it to the patient vendor who thought it to be adorable. The memory continued on cutely enough, with said child devouring their icecream and going to find their father who rather irresponsibly, was at the Leaky Cauldron instead of keeping an eye on him, and in the intermediating time, Fenrir struck.

_"__Little boys shouldn't walk around on their own, where's your father?"_

_"The pub, I'm going there now, it's this way isn't it...?"_

_"I'm going there to, just follow me,"_

He seemed friendly enough, for a poorly glamoured figure, a glamour which was actively wearing off - the child began to get smushed in the Diagon Alley crowd, making Fenrir take his tiny hand.

_"I'll have to hold onto this so you don't get lost okay? You're really little."_

_"I don't think I'm supposed to do that with strangers..."_

_"My name is Fenrir, so now I'm not a stranger, am I?"_

_"I guess not..."_

The memory quickly devolved, taking the child to the side alley near the Leaky Cauldron, and then placing them in a full body-bind, silencing them and hocking them under his cloak as the glamour began to wear off, before beelining for Knockturn Alley. It really didn't get much clearer than that.

"The facts being what they are, we cannot allow for people to take the law and justice into their own hands, if we let this by, what kind of precedent would that set? Violence towards werewolves in the street as commonplace?" ah, someone from the werewolf registry, they should have expected them to object, at least, out of obligation.

"With the rumoured..._perversions _of Greyback's nature, could any of you be comfortable letting him go free? We know he takes children, we know he bites them with the aim of indoctrinating them to his cause, even with the Dark Lord gone, he makes it his business to continue a similar crusade with little success but with enough to make him a thing of nightmares, it's an _open secret _\- we know this," stressed Lily.

"There is no _difficulty _in proving intent here...!"

"If anything the boy should be rewarded, a savage diving for a child, in what world is this a debate...?"

"Do you _know _the level of discourse this is going to cause in the werewolf community?!"

Harry found he didn't have to say much at all, focused on the unrelenting stare directed at him from the high chair besides the vile Umbridge woman, over to where Lucius Malfoy was. Their eyes met, and the tension was palpable, Harry had to wonder if anyone was even noticing.

"The jury will deliberate,"

And then Lucius Malfoy's lip curled into a semblance of a smile, though he more resembled somebody ready to chew you up and spit you out.

It was wholly unsettling.

Lucius was the last to rise and left, everyone caught the look, which probably explained the speedy result.

* * *

"Harry James Potter the Wizengamot hereby finds you guilty of the manslaughter of Fenrir Greyback,"

Shit.

"The Court has also deemed the act as a justifiable homicide, the act of which will be retained on your adult record for the rest of your days, you will pay a fine of 1,500 galleons and be set on a probationary period for the rest of your time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry, your career options and electives were provided by Albus Dumbledore, and so the Court will not hold you in violation of probation for any act that pertains to your chosen career in Exorcism, but any permanent harm or implicated harm to another human persons by yourself will raise another hearing and be seen as a violation where your position at Hogwarts and wand status will be reviewed," Ameila Bones was firm, and just, it at least felt as proportionate and fair as the Wizengamot got, at any rate.

So, one thousand five hundred galleons was the cost of a werewolf life, huh?

Harry looked up at Lucius, who was giving him a ghost of a smile that went as quickly as it came, James and Lily sighed with relief, Sirius had an unreadable look - mind reeling over the content of the evidence revealed in the court room, but for Harry, his only focus was on Remus, whom he immediately strode to upon seeing him tucked away in a fairly dark part of the room, willing himself not to be seen by the high court and their purebloods who held a disregard for half-breeds.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around the man and squeezed, an apologetic look in his eyes, Sirius was a little startled by it, as was James, Lily - not so much, but the reasons for it became clear. Back in Harry's other life, Remus had a lot to do with werewolf relations and keeping an eye on the community, in this world, his role was much the same, leading Harry to embrace him warmly and apologise softly.

"I've left a mess for you to deal with, haven't I?"

"It's a job," he smiled wryly, if tiredly.

"Merlin, Harry. I'm just glad you got off," sighed the older man as Harry reluctantly let him go, casting a worried stare over at him.

"They could have prohibited you from receiving your new wand all together or halting your education I mean - you could have ended up like _Hagrid _and spent a month stint in Azkaban or-" Remus rambled off, making Harry cock an eyebrow at him.

"Azkaban?" he was a little puzzled, it always seemed so extreme to him, then again, it was the _only _prison-like facility aside from Nurmenguard that Harry had heard of that held wizards, and Nurmenguard was not even in Britain, but really, _Azkaban, _for a _teenager? _Did Remus know how silly that sounded?

"Greater wizards have been sent there for less," said Remus grimly, Harry frowned at this but nodded, it had given him some food for thought.

"Well, it's nice to know you're so worried about me, I'm glad the fine wasn't too much t- I mean I'm not, but I am, ya know?" Harry grumbled, confusing the werewolf considerably.

"Well I mean like - a werewolf life... that trial wouldn't have been so quick if it wasn't Greyback," he muttered, and Remus sighed, knowing it was true - but resumed comforting Harry by placing a hand on his shoulder and walking with him while James and Lily had talked in hushed tones about making the trip to Gringotts to pay off the fine as quickly as possible while Sirius was rather incensed by the weirdness that Lucius Malfoy was exuding during the proceedings.

"Harry, stay close to us okay? There's apparently press outside," said Lily after talking to the small auror from earlier, making a strangled groan escape while Remus slipped beside James and Sirius.

The moment the large oak doors opened, there was enough light to blind you, hitting them all at once as the sound of heavy clicks and scratches filled the air - Remus even let out a vaguely animal-like noise out of sheer surprise, it having alarmed his natural senses. - Such strong _cameras...!_

"Coming through, make way, please keep at arm's length," James had apparently gone into auror mode, and Sirius followed suit, trying to give Lily, Remus and Harry some breathing space, while reporters made indignant noises as someone pushed through them rudely like a knife through butter, and immediately filled Harry with trepidation, mild loathing and anxiety upon seeing who it was.

"_Rita Skeeter - _with the The Daily Prophet-" she began, ready to shove her camera under the poor boy's nose until James's voice cut through harshly.

"My son isn't taking questions,"

She merely narrowed her eyes at him and moved her stare back to Harry, intent on getting a line out of him.

"Harry, do you feel your verdict was just?"

All Harry could do was blink slowly, still trying to get the spots out of his vision from the bright camera flashes.

"Huh?" he instantly cringed at how clueless he felt, but he was tired, and just wanted to go back home with his family.

"A week in custody, a _fine _for _one thousand five hundred gold galleons, _for taking down a _beast _of a child predator, do you feel the Wizengamot treated you justly...?"

"I guess..?" he said quizzically, her Quick Quotes Quill scratching frantically on a pad of parchment, an elegant family cutting through the reporters as Rita spoke, parting for a small child who instantly ran themselves at Harry's legs, making him blink owlishly at being crashed into, the child having yelled some variation of _Harry _on his way to planting himself there.

"_Urusai, Yuuya...!" _a rather stern looking Japanese man gently began berating his son for his loudness, though authoritatively.

"...M...Moshiwakearimasen," the man apologised formally, though Harry didn't understand the gist of it, he put up a calming hand and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile and that he didn't mind the child planting themselves on his legs, recognising it as the boy Fenrir tried to grab.

"My Papa doesn't speak lotsa English," said the child with a little frown "-but we wanted to make sure you were okay, Western Ministry isn't very nice..."

Lily glanced apologetically at the man, somehow he couldn't really see them going out of their way to obtain translators and having them sit in on the trial when they only really needed the child's memory to act as testimony.

"I'm okay," said Harry with a reassuring smile.

"You're not gonna go jail or anything?"

"Nope," he grinned at the pair of them, and the man seemed to get the gist that all was well, right as Rita snapped a picture - something about it being a perfect snapshot and Harry taking after his younger brother in his _saviour shoes _or some nonsense like that.

The boy - whose name appeared to be Yuuya - beamed, and turned to his dad after unlatching off of Harry to explain everything, the relief was palpable on the man's face, before he said something rather hurriedly in Japanese, making Yuuya turn around and crane his head up to look back at Harry and the other adults. The family was apparently Japanese, and it was just the boy and his father, a stern, old looking man named Ryota Takashina, and his little boy, Yuuya, appearing to be in England on business of some kind.

"Dad says if there was a problem with your edu...edu..." struggling to find the English word for it quite right, as well as he spoke it, he was still a kid.

Harry raised a brow.

"Education?"

"Yeah!" said the child nodding their head "-he could write to Mahoutokoro, my big sister goes there, he says the Western Ministries have a habit of snapping wands at every chance they have and making people go jail," he frowned as he said this, with clear disapproval, making Sirius snort in the background, because it was painfully true, and the kid was probably condensing and melting down the words of an incredibly polite man into the bluntest English, losing all subtlety in translation.

"I'm on probation, that means they'll be watching me very, very carefully, if I behave, I will be able to keep at Hogwarts, so I will be okay, but please tell your dad I am very thankful he is so concerned and I'm just glad that you're okay,"

The child nodded and relayed it to the man, who took his leave after a respectful bow and some translated goodbyes later, with a promise of a thank you correspondence once he'd settled in at Hogwarts for his third year - which Harry insisted was unnecessary, but they insisted on. You couldn't be too polite to someone who saves your son's life - according to Ryota.

After watching the interaction with some interest, the adults ushered Harry home, who finally asked.

"So, whose watching Daniel if you're all here?"

"He's having Occlumency lessons with Snape right now,"

Harry couldn't help but snort. Loudly.

* * *

When they got back to Godric's Hollow, the shower and change of clothes was welcomed beyond anything else, though if Daniel was starting Occlumency while he was going into his second year, it meant the Order was more on the ball than they were before, even with Voldemort still laying low. They did, actually, stop off at Diagon Alley, if only to pick up his completed wand and make the trip to Gringotts for the fine payment, Harry could also see that the _OtherHarry _found a way around being over protected with mail wards during the holidays, by setting up a PO box with Gringotts, Daniel had one too, since goblins screened for harmful content, but he never checked it, unless it was free stuff - most letters got tossed out as fan mail. Harry's had letters which he figured were from whatever acquaintances or subscriptions _OtherHarry _had, since it was painfully obvious that he was lacking in friends.

It meant Harry had to study the journal he had a bit more, to see just how much differed from his own time, it turned out - quite a lot had changed, if Daniel was having Occlumency early on in order to differentiate himself from the horcrux he had within him.

'_Dear Journal,_

_Daniel is an amazing seeker, Slytherin wont keep the cup for long with how well he plays, bloody hell. I finally investigated the hissing walls today too, nobody else seems to hear it, and I haven't been able to get close enough to Daniel to ask him if he has. I keep hearing 'hungry' and stuff through the walls, someone's hungry, I thought it was Peeves playing a prank, but it's been going on a while now. I think Daniel's too busy stressing out over Quirrell, Snape and whatever crazy thing Dumbledore thought was a bloody good idea to hide in a school full of children that promises death. I hope Weasley isn't thick enough to actually lead Daniel to the third floor corridor. I don't like that boy's influence one bit.'_

It seemed he and Ron were not on good terms at all, the hissing though - could the basilisk have woken up a year early? Was Quirrell more active..?

'_Quirrell is dangerous. The stuttering fool act is wearing thin. He doesn't stutter consistently, and I'm **sure **he let the troll in, people don't just faint like that. He fainted backwards, people don't faint like that. I cant prove it though, I put myself in danger just getting rid of the giant oaf. Daniel needs to be careful, Weasley Jnr will get him killed.'_

Was he older than Ron and Hermione here...? By a year...? OtherHarry seemed a degree sharper than he was at any rate.

'_Quirrell is danger. Quirrell looks at my brother like he is meat. I must protect him. Nobody believes me. Who would? He acts scared of his own shadow. Daniel is the Boy Who Lived, who'd fear a man like that? Maybe I'm seeing things, but I had it all confirmed when I saw him hexing Daniel's broom. Snape was muttering he counter hex, I only meant to set Quirrell alight, but oh well, it stopped the jinx at any rate.' _

So in this world, Harry did that? Interesting.

'_This just proves he's dangerous, why else would he be trying to hex Daniel to his death? He was high enough to have died. I cannot allow this. I saw him limping too, I saw him come out of the third floor corridor with the Marauder's Map. I must end this.'_

A few more entries detailed a friendship with Moaning Myrtle - well, as much as what he could tolerate, the journal noted a deep annoyance with her, but he only used that bathroom as it was incredibly private and he could brew potions in peace without being disrupted, apparently, he steadily brewed his own calming potions and such so he could stop getting them from the hospital wing.

OtherHarry had nightmares too.

'_She finally told me how she died, what she saw. I tried parseltongue, not thinking it would work, but I did it. I found the Chamber of Secrets. Something has also been feeding on the blood of unicorn's in the Forbidden Forest, I overheard Daniel talking about it. Quirrell was tracking in mud. He's more dangerous than I thought. He must be housing or protecting or serving the Dark Lord's will in some way, getting him that blood, if it can even save you from the brink of death, I suppose you'd need something stronger to counter it. I will not let Daniel face him. I will protect him at all costs.'_

Harry frowned, and touched the lightning bolt scar - Daniel had a scar too, but he could speak parseltongue again in this world, but Daniel was the Boy-Who-Lived, what on Earth was going on...? Evidently, Lily and James didn't die either, so no sacrifice of their lives to shield them, but managed to deflect a killing curse...

He really had to figure out what happened that Halloween night, but for now, he could only keep reading. He frowned at the massive jump in the dates in the journal for the entries that followed that one, they didn't make sense, well, not chronologically - there were just entries about books he wanted and stuff until finally.

'_Quirrell was found dead, Basilisk poison apparently. How could that have happened? I do wonder. Oh well. Daniel is safe. Needs must. Turns out Dumbledore kept the Philosopher's Stone here at Hogwarts - Quirrell had been after it and my brother had been after him &amp; Snape in some misguided attempt to protect it. He's a bloody first year, what was he thinking? I can't keep protecting him like this. The cost is so high.'_

Harry froze outright as he read that, the diary implied - and well, practically _told him _that Quirrell hadn't been burnt to a cinder, or fought one on one, he'd been _poisoned, _by venom, perhaps the shoes he'd walked to weren't quite as burden-free as he thought.

'_But there always has to be a price. A price to protect Daniel. One day he'll understand.'_

"Merlin's pants..." muttered Harry, thumbing through the journal, was OtherHarry like _Riddle?! _It seemed to be on a parallel level though, where Riddle's actions came from malice, his came from love, and a disturbing level of suicidal devotion, it rung unhealthy.

Second year in diary form didn't see the release of the basilisk, though Lockheart was apparently, present, and the bane of Harry's existence, watching him fawn over Daniel and chide him for being jealous every time he stepped in.

'_Lockheart is a pretty bumbling buffoon, his books have inconsistencies everywhere, and he keeps **touching **and **grabbing **Daniel and I **won't stand for it. **I will talk to him tonight.'_

The rest was strange, making Harry scowl as he thumbed through it, second year was not well documented at all, and he could hazard an educated guess as to why.

'_I must have forgot to see Lockheart, I went down to the chamber to collect the shed skin of the basilisk for potions ingredients, I think Professor Snape might appreciate the anonymous gift, Valentines is rolling around soon and I'm sure he must be sick of all the gag gifts and pranks he probably gets. I know he isn't a super model and he isn't the nicest guy, but pranking him on a day where everyone's lovey dovey just seems especially mean.'_

Harry raised a brow, then again, it kinda did - Dudley had been the kind of boy who'd fake-ask out girls that were unpopular, even though he was a fat blob of a boy, he was still decently regarded by the people he didn't beat up, and the crushed look the girls would have, even if they knew it was a prank from the get-go, was always sad, there was something uniquely horrible about doing that on Valentines day, and whilst Snape wasn't his favourite person, the man deserved more than he got. He was glad that _OtherHarry _had been decently kind, even though anonymous.

_'I threatened Lockheart in public today, he asked me to serve detention with him. I will have it out with this buffoon.'_

The rest was a disjointed mess, it seemed he visited the basilisk with regularity after every Lockheart encounter, it seemed, Myrtle aside - that the snake was his only friend, considering it tried to kill him in another life, this thought was bloody disturbing.

'_I'm so tired, I think I slept for half of that detention, I don't remember much, I went to the chamber though, and the Basilisk said I looked weak, and that it wouldn't speak to me anymore. I don't understand, it didn't hate me though, it just seemed sort of sad. I don't get why it's being like that. I will, **will **get him to speak to me again!'_

The rest was about the basilisk hissing cryptically and OtherHarry struggling to remember that he'd been obliviated, making Harry rub his eyes and scowl in disgust, at least Lockheart's contract was up after the year so he could travel.

_'I protected Daniel from Lockheart. I kept his attention. Now that idiot is gone. Good. I want to try to get my missing memories back, but the basilisk will not reveal to me what I can't remember. I think I've been obliviated. A lot. The basilisk says I can't remember much by the time I visit him, he says he's keeping some memories safeguarded for me. I apparently told him I could only have them if I seemed stronger than I am now. What was I thinking? What cryptic bullshit is this? Why didn't I record it in this bloody journal? I don't understand.'_

_'I DON'T REMEMBER I DON'T REMEMBER I DON'T REMEMBER'_

"Fucking Lockheart," he hissed, slamming the diary shut.

It looked like he'd have to visit a certain snake when Hogwarts was in session, just as the door opened and he saw a very tired and mildly upset Daniel, coming back from his Occlumency lessons. He looked at Harry, mildly upset, lighting up just a bit before divebombing onto his torso and rolling them both into the bed, squeezing on him even though he was too old for tat sort of thing.

"Bloody hell you've been gone ages, I thought you'd gone to Azkaban!" he blubbered, squeezing and sniffling.

Harry wheezed from the force of the blow and tiredly held Daniel, his mind reeling - and clearly not used to this big brother thing.

"I'm fine," he let out a tired groan and sighed "-it's been the longest day,"

"Mum said you'd be able to go to Hogwarts and that it's just probation, Merlin's beard Harry! You scared me!" he said, half-shouting at him - it was weird, having Daniel so concerned about him.

"Mmg, I'm fine, just loosen up so I can breathe," said Harry dryly, making Daniel let go sheepishly.

"Did you at least get your homework and stuff done while I was gone? School's coming up," Daniel groaned at that, before pouting and flopping dramatically face-first into Harry's pillow.

"_You just got back and I just had a nasty lesson with Snape and you're reminding me about homewooooorkk...!" _he whined.

"Stay here with me then if you want, we'll look at it all later, I bloody missed all this, the custody cell was awful..." Harry admitted softly, making Daniel look at him in surprise, unburrowing from the pillow.

"You missed us?"

Harry sighed, he just got his life back that he'd never had - his dream life more or less, then spent it in a cell immediately after, of course he missed it.

"You have no idea how much,"


	5. Time, Mr Potter?

_Author's Note: In this chapter, you will see I have been deceiving you a bit, and Harry is awfully confused, but in his position, who wouldn't be? _

_Also, as I mentioned last chapter, will likely start smutting when Harry reaches 16+ - he is currently fifteen. That will change soon. Will probably have sexual stuff mentioned prior though. Hormones and stuff. Major HP/SB in this chapter. SIRIUS BLACKxHarry Potter. Warned. Again. Due to potential squickfactor. I decided it may play a bigger role in this HarryxMany slash harem._

**_[PLEASE READ] - I'm also looking for a BETA reader who will help me pluck out grammar problems and the like, since it doesn't matter how hard I pick through my work, I'm never able to spot or correct them all efficiently, honestly, my eyesight is also pretty awful and I'd just be grateful for the help. Especially typing on this tiny-ass notebook. Bleh. Anyways! Yes, looking for a BETA. PSA over. Onward!_**

**_Also, sorry I lied to my loyal reviewer (you know who you are!) about the Harry's age fiasco, I just didn't want to let on my intentions which will be steadily revealed over time. Expect to hear a lot from a certain prat named Gilderoy Lockheart._**

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Harry Potter_

* * *

**Time, Mr Potter?**

{Chapter Four}

He wasn't sure how long Daniel blubbered, but he seemed to have a borderline unhealthy attachment to his big brother, which Harry didn't find himself minding all too much, he suspected if he had a big brother growing up, he'd have done similar. He never really could understand Ron's resentment of having so many supportive figures to choose from, but the grass is always greener on the other side, Harry supposed. The question bit at him as he gently patted Daniel on the head – hoping his interactions didn't seem awkward or standoffish, but how strange would it be if he started asking what happened the night Voldemort attacked?

Harry closed his eyes briefly, how much did _he _know when he first found he was the Boy-Who-Lived? Everyone knew more than him, even Hermione rattled off a load of books he'd been in that he didn't know about.

It occurred to him that he'd have to probably look in those books for the answers the public believed, and maybe look for some archived Daily Prophets if he _could,_ before he pieced together what _really _happened that Halloween night, if Voldemort had left a horcrux in _this _body or in Daniel's, both - or _neither! _The world he'd fell in was a stencil of his old one at best, they were similar but they were not the same, he could not rely on things to play out as they did before, if he wanted predictability, he should not have gone the Northern path to begin with, he knew this.

Daniel had been strange around him, but he was trying to figure out family dynamics from a diary so he wasn't sure if that was normal, the only thing he could be sure of was that Sirius kept a certain distance from him whilst maintaining all was well, and Harry couldn't be certain why, until he studied the diary more. Slowly.

'_Dear Journal,_

_He avoided me this Halloween, the night we celebrate the defeat of Voldemort, of course, it's Daniel's Night, always has been, always will be - but I'm his godson** too,** dammit. Sometimes, he doesn't even want to be alone in a room with me, I like to think it's because I got sorted into Slytherin, but he's always been a little off with me. I don't think Sirius has treated me equally since me and Danny were kids. Remus apologises a lot, and makes up for it - tries to, anyway, and I wish I could be accepting of it. I wish it was enough. Never have I met such a gentle man. Gentle werewolf. Gentle beast. He hates himself so much that it makes me sad that I cannot do anything about it, nor can I be at peace with just accepting Uncle Remus's affection and attention._

_I want Sirius's, and nothing else will do.'_

Harry felt a bit ill reading it, did OtherHarry have some sort of obsession...? Or was it just the need for equality, the desperate need to be treated like Daniel and thus it led to immeasurable depths of need competing for Sirius's attention? Yes, Harry was content to believe that, had he not read further.

_'He's one of father's oldest friends, he is my godfather, my parent in place of those by blood. I shouldn't, I mustn't, but I do, and Merlin he's _old! _He's old, and he's a **man, **but no man should have hair that long and soft and perfect or eyes that blue or a laugh so infectious. Bloody Merlin no. Of all the wizards, why? I'd even tolerate Zabini over this.'_

At that point, Harry felt mildly ill, OtherHarry...fancied his godfather, how many issues did this boy have?! He'd poisoned Quirrell, befriended a basilisk, got sorted into Slytherin, had no friends and fancied his _godfather?!_

He had to stop reading for a while, he told himself it was just puberty, sexuality problems and the like, trouble expressing himself in other forms except the written word, and Lily and James never died in this world, so Sirius's godfather role was all but in just name and perhaps a paper or two at the Ministry but on a day to day basis never amounted to more than _Dad's Hot Friend, _at least, in OtherHarry's eyes, even if Daniel called him _Uncle._

Bloody hell this was weird.

With a great sense of trepidation and mild anxiety, he picked up the diary, and resumed leafing through it.

Slowly, his face stained red as he looked deeper into the unhealthy obsessions that caught the boy's eye - but it made him wonder, why didn't he moon after Lockheart if he was so insecure and lusting after attractive men as well as women? Lockheart was regarded as pretty by many and gorgeous by more than one publication and even had awards for his looks, but Harry couldn't help but feel pleased that _OtherHarry _didn't have poor taste in who he lusted after anyways, if he liked Lockheart than he'd have been more than just disgusted with the prat.

Was liking Sirius any better though?

Blergh.

'_Dear Journal,_

_If we didn't have Grandma Dorea's old wand laying around, I don't know how I'd ever keep this hidden, or Daniel's occasional **accidents.' **_

Harry had to assume that was the referral to bed-wetting, though it was concerning how someone in their early teens was still doing that.

'_I can never fault him too badly for those I suppose, the trauma of the Dark Lord attacking again in first year would be enough to give anyone nightmares, he has no idea just how close he was to Quirrell hurting him. I don't regret taking care of that situation. But Merlin, using Dorea's wand to scourgify pee out of bedsheets is one thing, but this is just...embarrassing... how do other wizards deal with it? Underage ones? Do their parents just turn a blind eye? I bet they do. Richer people have house elves take care of it and not worry about bedsheets but mum was always so adamantly against them. I take a risk every time I take Dorea's wand off the ornamental holster, one day, mum or dad will catch on.'_

Hells, he had to commend the brains of the other boy - evading the Ministry Trace 100% by circumventing the rule by using an adult wand was genius, though considering they lived on warded land with multiple adults, he was surprised it was a concern at all, but supposed James and Lily were firm on the rules of underage wizardry at home, like most, after all, wands could be _priori incantatem_'d if someone at the Ministry kicked up a big enough stink, and nobody wanted that, so it was best to just obey the rules.

'_This is the fifth night I've woken up like this in just a few weeks, it's always so warm in here that I have to kick off all of the bed sheets, sometimes it's so hot I can't stand to wear anything at all, but I **have **to, or I'll make a mess.'_

Harry found himself blushing immensely, trying to piece together what was being referred to, and having a faint idea already that was making him blush and cringe as he ploughed on.

'_I woke up and it was **so** hard.'_

Harry glanced away from the words, toward the door, blushing utterly and feeling bad about the privacy he was violating.

'_I remember his blue eyes, his goddamn smirk like when he wins a game of Exploding Snap, but it was above me, and he was breathing heavily in my ear. I don't remember what he was saying, but I remember his hands. I remember his big, large hands going down my front and touching me, wrapping around me after going up the inseam of my robe.' _

Harry shuddered, he was violating privacy doing this, but he had to understand - he told himself - and there was some sick curiosity behind it all, wondering if they had even similar preferences, but the content was new to him, and so he found himself picturing it was he went along down the page, a warmness spreading through from the tips of his fingers, up his arm and through his torso.

'_I remember his shoulder moving erratically - and the form of my robes moving up and down, the intense expression on his face in his blue eyes, we kissed, and he grunted, before grinding down on top of me, rubbing me frantically until he withdrew himself from his own robes and we just started rubbing. I don't know how two guys... but it was enough. I woke up. I woke up hot and feeling good all through my bones, I hope I didn't moan out loud, I was already making a mess of clea- um... stuff... and I couldn't help but buck against the bed, pretending it was him rubbing me and not the sheet. I made a mess. I'm so embarrassed.'_

"Harry! Could you come down here?" he slammed the diary shut at the sound of his father, and just like that, any lustful tension particularly in the southern regions of his body immediately drained, what could he want?

"We need a little man-to-man talk,"

Did Sirius tell...?

* * *

When Harry made his way down the staircase, he noted Daniel flash him a guilty look before vacating and going to help Lily with the garden, James smiled and gingerly gestured for Harry to sit down on the small round table in the dining room. Across from each other, it was almost like the interrogation room - Harry noted with grim amusement, except that his father was looking at him with kind eyes, concerned ones, that took in every inch of his pale skin before he withdrew his wand from his sleeve holster and wordlessly summoned two steaming mugs of hot chocolate from the kitchen counter, freshly brewed.

"Hot chocolate, Harry?" he gestured, letting one cup float delicately in front of him and the other floating hesitantly to Harry, who nodded, and took it from mid-air with grace and slowly lowered it down, smiling just a bit despite his nerves, his parents were kind. Not like the Dursleys. Not one bloody bit.

"Thanks Dad," it was strange, he'd tested the word on his lips mentally before he could really get used to it, it was the same with calling Lily 'mum' - but somehow he managed to play it off as his naturally awkward self, and nobody raised a brow as far as he could see - not even Daniel, who was remarkably perceptive.

James smiled at him in a gentle manner that reached right up to his eyes, it was easy to see why Lily fell in love with him - eventually.

"What's this about...?" he asked hesitantly, looking wary despite his relaxed demeanour.

"Harry, Daniel's worried about you, and frankly, Remus said you've been acting a bit strange - me and Lils have noticed you've been seeming a tad peaky and out of it, I can't say the week in custody helped, but I saw it too, with Sirius..." he trailed off as he noticed his son tense and frowned just a little, sipping on his drink.

Harry decided to tread carefully, it wouldn't do to accidentally reveal more than intended, how much did he know? He'd let James tell _him._

"How'd you mean...?" he said delicately, fingering the handle of the steaming mug and drinking from it so he didn't have to speak, it tasted warm and toasted him pleasantly from the inside out.

"Harry there's no way for me to say this gently so I'll just come right out and say it, we tried to propose it earlier while you were in custody but now we think you need it yet - we're calling your old Mind Healer up again for a scheduled appointment, Daniel said you couldn't even remember the name of the students on your Quidditch team," said James with a frown "-if you're forgetting things again, you need to tell us, son. We're not here to make life hard for you, we're here to _help _you, and so is Healer Ashthorne,"

Harry tried not to choke on his hot chocolate, his mind picked up on the key things - as he now paid for a casual slip in knowledge by his perceptive little brother.

_Forgetting things again._

They knew OtherHarry had memory problems from Lockheart - and they _knew _but as there was no indication in the diary that he'd figured out _who _obliviated him, to a point there had been a _Mind Healer _involved.

Suddenly, something sank in his chest that maybe, the diary wasn't that reliable, he guessed himself to be fifteen, but _was he? _How old was Daniel for that matter, if he was going into second year - or third, fuck, Harry wasn't sure of anything anymore, if OtherHarry had memory gaps, there was no guarantee that the diary was concrete.

"You have your future at Hogwarts to think about you know, Minerva, Pomona and the other teachers have done their best to make it less stressful for you, but Filius refuses to budge on letting you take your Charms OWL early too-"

Wait, _too? _He took some OWLs early? Could you even take single subjects ahead of time, _early?! _Hermione had been the greatest witch of his time and even she hadn't sat her exams early - he supposed if there was an exception, it would have to be an _exceptional _one and not one for mere intellect alone, even if OtherHarry was smart, Harry didn't see anything to suggest _genius._

"-as are other teachers, Sni-Snape is perhaps more open to it but he'd sooner bend over backwards than admit a Potter should take their OWL early in order to get into his NEWT class and frankly doesn't understand the urgency,"

Harry wasn't sure he understood what was happening either, and just wanted to ask outright but didn't want to be carted off to St Mungos forever.

"...Harry, you've already lost two or three years, we don't want you to lose any more," said James emphatically, making Harry freeze before he could stop himself.

_What._

_"_You can't get second year or third year back, but if you're having trouble remembering last year, you _need _to tell us, I know you hated bouncing between Hogwarts, home and St Mungos, but if it's for the sake of your mind, you _must _be honest," James pleaded, eyes glittering with concern and maybe even tears, had James been the teary type.

Harry's mind proceeded to kick into overdrive, frantically going back to the diary - was that why second year was a mess? Why everything after that was poorly documented at best? Then the dates stopped being marked on the diary entries, and classes were scarcely mentioned at all, it was because he hadn't _been there _to record it...!?

Harry was bloody confused, and scared, and worried.

"I forget bits but I mostly remember," he said softly, debating how much to lie.

"The more you remember, the harder we can try to have the investigation opened back up at Hogwarts, okay?" said James softly, putting his mug down and reaching over the table to pat down Harry's hair lovingly, making the teen shut his eyes and try not to come across as too strange from the familiarity of the action, something he wished for so many times as a kid.

"Mind Healer Ashthorne is in the next room, I invited her over but I wanted to talk to you first, I'm glad you were honest with me son, please don't be angry at us - or Daniel - for that matter, he's just concerned for his big brother," he smiled wanly.

"I'm not mad..." said Harry faintly, rising with his drink as James slowly ushered him to the living room.

"I know, Harry. We just want you to get better,"

* * *

Healer Ashthorne was a homely sort of woman, but she had a guarded sort of manner about her, she was old, but only with the barest few grey hairs sneaking into her brunette barnet, and kindly chocolate-coloured eyes, that reminded Harry all the more of the drink in his hand, and he was pleased to see she had a tea - and wasn't left unattended for the time James spoke to Harry, whose mind was reeling.

_'Okay, so second year was a mess, third year was utterly lost and fourth year I know nothing about except I'm a beater for Slytherin and managed to break my wand and lodge it in my thigh. I was apparently at St Mungos between going to Hogwarts and apparently came back to Godric's Hollow a lot. I have no friends. I'm a bloody Slytherin, and I have problems from that **bastard **Lockheart obliviating me. _

_Wait, I do have one friend..!_

_The Basilisk! Slytherin's Basilisk...! That settles it, I have to go the Chamber of Secrets and get chummy with a great bloody murderous beast that nearly killed me for my answers, he's apparently guarding memories too, and memories are what I need.'_

He did a mental review of what he knew as Ashthorne smiled at him, sipping her tea and inclining her head to the chair across from her so that they could talk, before she put her cup down and began opening up a medical-looking briefcase atop the coffee table, making Harry's brow furrow in confusion - he had no experience with _Mind _Healers.

'_I've got to figure out what Dad meant about OWLs too, since I'd be in fifth year and I'd be doing my bloody OWLs again, whatever. Easier than NEWTs. I know my Potions this time around, same for Charms and the basics - I need to research the bloody years lost on subjects OtherHarry took. He isn't doing Transfiguration and that's a **mandatory ** OWL subject, from what Dad said, I can infer that McGonagall must have let him take it early with all of his memory problems and home study efforts in mind to make OWL year less stressful. Bless that woman. Stern but good. I suppose memory problems from obliviates in Hogwarts that an investigation turned up empty on, is more than enough of an exceptional circumstance to do OWLs early, he isn't doing History of Magic, Divination or Astronomy, and they are mandatory OWLs, I can assume he's done those too, I need to dig around the bedroom to find something with whatever he got...'_

"Good afternoon Harry, how have you been?" she asked warmly, Harry just shrugged a little and tried to deflect the question.

"You?"

Ashthorne detected it immediately and clucked her tongue in disapproval "I'm fine, but you've forgotten subtlety if that was an attempt at answer dodging young man," making him shrink a little at her matronly manner, reminding him eerily of a much more perceptive Madam Pomfrey.

"Sorry," he apologised awkwardly, watching her open the case that was empty save for a smaller wooden chest inside of it, which was inscribed in delicate privacy and locking wards and runic symbols, nothing overly complicated but certainly enough to stop a student prying it open.

"It's fine Harry, your father fire-called me in my office because we understand your memory of last year is seeming spotty? You still have gaps..?" she enquired rather sharply, making him nod reluctantly.

"As much as I'd love to keep you in St Mungos for a closer eye, Headmaster Dumbledore tells me this is your OWL year and you still have some to sit," she pursed her lips in disapproval, but Harry just gave a half-shrug.

"My timetable is small, I'm taking Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Ancient Runes and Herbology - I mean, I'm doing Ghoul Studies, Ancient Studies and Muggle Music but there's no OWL exam for extra-curriculars I don't think, the exams sat for this are different and I can relax," he said, trying to recall the scrap of paper listing his electives and books that had been crudely pinned to a corkboard in his room, and had been ripped off the letter sent that would have indicated directly what year he would have been going into.

Ashthorne, looking prim, turned her nose up but not in a derisive manner, but a mildly displeased one.

"Still too much, you spent half your time in St Mungos on your Transfiguration, Astronomy, History of Magic and Divination anyway when you were _supposed _to be recovering, I don't want you burning out while you still have holes in your memory on subjects like Ancient Runes and the like... if it gets too much you _will _drop an extra-curricular," she said firmly, while Harry just nodded along.

"Tell me, how is your day to day memory? Remembering tasks, short term things,"

"Perfect," said Harry hollowly "-I have no problems functioning day by day if that's what you mean, it's just, recalling specifics,"

Asthorne sighed.

"Has keeping a diary helped?"

"A lot,"

She reclined a bit, crossing one leg over the other.

"...And the Greyback incident, how are you...feeling, after all of that? Did you experience any loss of memory or gaps before, after, or surrounding the event? I have your medical documents from your court files already reviewed and your ability to produce memory of the event untainted and untarnished so it excluded and barred any referral to your medical history and as Greyback had no defence, and your mother was disinclined to make you testify under an insanity plea, the Wizengamot didn't perhaps dig as much as they should. I really, _really _should have been called Harry," she sounded disappointed in him, and though he didn't know this woman from Adam, he did his best to look apologetic.

"I'm fine, I don't torment myself over it if that's what you mean, I mean, it bothers me but not as much as it should," referring to the fist fight, the woman was quiet, and sipped more tea.

"And your nightmares? How have they been now we've dropped your Dreamless Sleep dosages down?"

Harry froze again, shit, what was he supposed to say? I have nightmares from another life where I'm a grizzled nineteen year old war veteran who tried to commit suicide by walking through the archway of death in the Department of Mysteries?

"I-uh..o-occasional," he stammered, he had a few in the custody block, no hiding that, he supposed, and if James called her then James saw and obviously reported it - just how many bloody problems did the Harry Potter of this world possess?

Asthorne nodded, and opened up the sealed box with a wave of her wand after uttering the word _"Privito Encasa," - _it popped open obediently, revealing the cushioned insides, which contained three black hand mirrors, which bore tiny runes along their handles.

"It is with great deliberation with your mother and father that we've reached a conclusion on how to help you deal with this, my job is to provide you with coping mechanisms Harry, because the holes in your memory may have taken away the recollection of the exact events but not with the trauma surrounding it or the frustration and stress that comes with a damaged mind," she said softly "-so I am going to prescribe a method that I want you to stick to,"

"This, Harry, is a guarded chest, it's warded for your privacy and will stop most students sans an utter genius ward breaker or professor with skill from opening it," she gestured to the rune inscribed trunk that held the mirrors.

"Inside these are enchanted hand mirrors, they are not to be handled by _anyone _other than yourself. There's a pamphlet inside that will tell you everything I'm telling you, but I thought I'd go through it once in case you have any questions,"

He watched her in curiosity as she pointed her wand to each mirror, explaining what her prescribed method of therapy was for dealing with copious nightmares and trauma.

"I rarely prescribe this to children over the age of 11, but it was with a lot of talks with your family that they agreed. Occasionally, this might be prescribed to a veteran of the First War but rarely, or those traumatized dealing with raids on former Death Eater homes..." she said with a light frown "-it's rarely prescribed because of the potential for harm, you know,"

Now he looked wary, what could those mirrors _do?_

_"_The charmed mirrors are designed to assign themselves to a specific wizard or witch's magical aura and touch, they are designed to absorb hypertension, stress and troubling feelings instead of manifesting them through dangerous acts of accidental magic and the like," she said with a small hum.

"So, how do you use them?" he asked interestedly, he'd never known anything like this.

"They act as pocket-portals of a kind, you meditate upon it's incantation - a long chant, and activate the enchantment ascribed on their handles, they're all unbreakable -up to a point, if you drop them, they will not shatter, all three are built to endure a huge amount of turmoil and stress, when you exceed the limit of one, a crack will run through it, once you reach that point, switch to another, each mirror has a lifespan dependable on how you use it, and how much...turmoil you have," she explained.

"So, they calm down magic and act like, I dunno, a muggle stress ball?" the Healer looked blank, waiting for an explanation, upon hearing it, she nodded slowly.

"Something like that, but the Abscondi Adaemone Mirror System is seldom ever prescribed, the Ministry rules it as borderline Dark," she said with a little huff, making Harry look bewildered.

"Why...?"

"They have a capacity for darkness, one would suppose - if you found an exorcist powerful enough to unleash another person's negative magic, or if some poor wizard or witch had something powerful and upsetting enough stored within a mirror without cracking it - it _ could, _and I say _could _very reluctantly, perhaps form a dark being, but Harry, you must understand, Mind Healers prescribed this for eons to children who went through low level traumas that needed somewhere to put their nightmares at rest, only one out of every few hundred ever given out _ever _resulted in a negative manifestation of something, and at worst, it was just a little boggart," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

"Each mirror lasts a while, each box comes with a set of three, I've known men to make them last about ten years with almost daily use, so hopefully, this should give you something to confide some of your troubling emotions in, it's not unhealthy either, it requires a strength of clear mind and state of peace to use, it isn't giving up on what troubles you and locking it away, it's about accepting what ails you, and putting it aside," she said softly.

"It is hard to explain, but the magic of a Abscondi Adaemone mirror will be something you will come to understand naturally when you begin using it. The steps to use it are in this little pamphlet here - though muggle meditation books and perhaps Occlumency basics may help, don't feel you have to buy out Flourish &amp; Blotts to research it as I know you would, you will get the hang of it with ease quite naturally," the healer sounded so sure of herself, all Harry could do was nod.

"Now, I would recommend something grown wizards and witches of a high and powerful persuasion manage to procure, but even for a Potter, I know pensieves aren't so easily sold, I'm requesting one from the Ministry on your behalf as I'm sure we have some seized in the evidence department from old, now irrelevant search and seize, cases, when your memories return, it would be wise to have somewhere to put them and return them. If I hear any word on one, I will let you know," Ashthorne smiled warmly and Harry finished off his hot chocolate, bowled over by her kindness - did she work for the Ministry as well as St Mungos...? Or just have links...? It seemed he had links he didn't even know about, in this world.

"What about the box...?" he asked quietly, gesturing to it.

"The box, like I said, is to keep the mirrors safe while you are at Hogwarts, if your dorm mates were to encounter whatever you put in there, it will not respond kindly, I know a boy who had third degree burns because he invaded his baby brother's mirror..." she trailed off "-the box is just a secure measure, the mirrors have their own, detailed in the pamphlet so they will learn to recognise you and only you, but it'll protect your secrets, so the things that trouble you most don't end up in the wrong hands,"

He wasn't sure he understood yet, but the healer assured him that he would, in time, so he just smiled benignly.

"Thank you, Healer Ashthorne,"

"Not a problem, Harry,"

* * *

His head was spinning, after the healer came and left, he took the mirrors upstairs and swore he'd report memory gaps and keep a better record of his thoughts, there was discussions on finding him Occlumency and Legilimency tutors just because both arts worked hand in hand and may aid organising a scrambled mind and give him a better understanding of the holes within his own mind if he had a greater understanding of it all on a magical level. But there was talk in a difficulty finding tutors, Harry's age in learning a penetrative mind art, and it disrupting Daniel's learning if he demanded lessons of Snape too, and Dumbledore said he was simply too busy, requesting tutors from the Ministry would be difficult, as the list of registered Legilimens was small, and forfeiting names to the Potters would passively be accepting an underage wizard learning a borderline dark art, and they weren't ready to do that, brother of the Boy-Who-Lived or not.

Eventually, Harry found what he was looking for, and found a piece of parchment hidden under pins of Quidditch news and broom releases on the corkboard.

'_Enclosed are the O.W.L results for the early examinations taken by Harry James Potter, we sincerely hope you did your best and would like to casually remind you that due to your special and extenuating circumstance, anything bellow an Acceptable may be retaken at fifth year with your fellow students should your teachers consent to sitting the exam._

_Astronomy - A (Acceptable)_

_Divination - T (Troll)_

_History of Magic - A (Acceptable)_

_Transfiguration - O (Outstanding)_

_We hope this is a joyous occasion for you, Mr Potter.'_

Harry couldn't help but snort at his Divination mark, no matter what the universe, it seemed Harry Potter was _destined _to fail that subject, the O in Transfiguration was shocking, he could only put that down to help from McGonagall herself and possibly his father, who he knew to be good at the subject. It occurred to him that he had some years of Ghoul Studies, Ancient Studies and Ancient Runes in particular to catch up on - and he'd really need to hit the books.

He jumped about fifty feet at the sound of the door knocking, and then creaking open as someone stuck their head in.

"There's no point in knocking if you barge right in anyway Daniel," said Harry, rolling his eyes without turning around until a deep voice cleared their throat and made him turn around.

"I'm not Daniel,"

Harry found himself face-to-face uncomfortably, with Sirius Black, who for once - sought _him _out.

"I saw your Mind Healer leave," he said, piercing the silence awkwardly, the very sight of that woman seemed to have taken the wind out of his sails considerably, and any brashness or pushy anger or demand for answers he had, seemed to simmer down as he stared at Harry, who was giving him that look.

That _damned _look, of searching and longing.

"She's nice," said Harry stiffly, unsure of what to say on the matter, they didn't seem close enough that they could disclose everything to each other, not like with Remus.

"That's good," said Sirius awkwardly, before slowly moving to Harry's bed and sitting on the edge of it.

Silence.

"Harry I didn't tell James," he blurted after a moment, unable to take the atmosphere.

Harry stared, trying to make sense of the statement until he remembered what happened at the medical wing of the custodial block at the Ministry of Magic, he sat nervously beside Sirius, close - closer than he'd ever been, he saw Sirius tense, but then untense - so fast that it might be unnoticeable to any other man but Harry's eye for reflex caught it and made him feel sad an uncomfy for a fleeting second, ditching any and all hope of closing the tiny gap between them and take the embrace he so craved, doing the best he could to dispel the sick and twisted fantasies that the Harry of this world once had.

"You didn't tell him about the medical report - the uh...the scars, right?"

"They only know what was an outcome of the accident, the mark Fenrir gave you," he said carefully.

"But my parents - they're my legal guardians they have to have known..." Harry trailed off after a moment as Sirius's face became cloudy and dark.

"Harry, I'm your godfather and I might have veto'd the report before they saw it," he said quickly, making the boy's eyes widen.

"Sirius, why...?"

"You'd never trust me if I let them know what I saw, passively or not. You hold grudges, Harry, and I don't want you to hate me," a hand planted on his shoulder, making him stiffen and yearn even more to close the distance in a familial embrace.

"But I _am _concerned for your safety, Harry. I need to know what happened, I need to know why you have so many marks on your body, and you need to tell me the truth, or I won't stay quiet forever, I won't have your self-harm on my head," Sirius almost hissed, and Harry shrank under his touch. Harry was quiet, there was nothing in the diary about it, and now Sirius had seen his Mind Healer exit Godric's Hollow, his mouth moved but no words came out, as he didn't have an answer.

"Sirius..." he trailed off, looking up into oceans of big blue eyes.

Sirius was quiet, feeling dressed down to his bare bones by those eyes, Merlin almighty - he knew he got them from Lily but they were more than just Lily's eyes embedded in Harry's face, they were the most intense shade of green, four times as emotive and reminded him of the naked feeling that only a dosage of Veritaserum could give, as though he was unmasking his every sin.

Harry always did manage to make him uncomfortable without meaning to...

"I don't remember," his voice cracked, and Sirius almost hissed _liar, _but the pleading in his tone, the look in his eyes - it melted his godfather completely, combined with the Mind Healer's presence, he knew it to be the truth.

"I need you to promise me that you wont add to that bloody collection you've got then, and when you remember..." he hesitated "I want you to tell me,"

Harry looked startled by this, considering that they weren't as close, and Sirius noticed, responding quickly.

"Or Moony - you always got on better with him," a trace of hurt was in his tone, and it made Harry want to bowl the man over in his arms, _dammit. _"Or your parents, or your Healer, Merlin Harry, just promise me you'll tell _someone _adult, even Snivellous - he's your Head of House, I don't like the git but...dammit just promise me," he snapped, like a mood swing - it seemed irritation with Harry took over, and all he could do was nod dumbly.

"I promise,"

"Good, because I don't want to have to worry about this anymore, kid, now, I need to go meet Bill and get your mum to Gringotts, he's working with Lily again on her Charm's research and they want an auror to chaperone the cursebreaker's meeting and I said I would, so I'll see you later," and with that, he stormed off.

Maybe Azkaban made Sirius more reserved, because this conversation was full of mood swings, but considering he'd missed whole years of his life in St Mungos and had lasting damage, he'd have thought Sirius would have been, well, _nicer, _but maybe OtherHarry had been creepy or untoward to him, Merlin only knows. The conversation just sort of...hurt, because the only father he'd truly known regarded him a second thought. Bloody hell.

What was that about Lily, Bill and Charms research, anyway? Did she aid cursebreakers? He sighed, and vowed to look in on that more, along with whatever Daniel's interests were, still somewhat hurting from that brief chat with Sirius, but at least his godfather didn't disregard his feelings and on some level, wanted Harry to trust him.

He also vowed to bridge the gap between them, he would not lose Sirius again.

* * *

"Eat my dust!" snarled Daniel, zooming around outside Godric's Hollow as Harry tailed him, the pair of them riding _Nimbus 2001_s with a smile, James rarely saw his eldest so carefree, and Daniel always brought the best out of him. Harry learned that after the Quirrell incident, Hogwarts had been uneventful - the basilisk wasn't set on students, the tournament had not occurred, and due to Sirius not being framed, no mass murderer breakouts happened in Azkaban, it was pretty quiet, but with Harry's arrival back in school, he knew that would change.

The whole damn timeline was fucked up, and he was missing whole portions of his school life.

The rest of Harry's time was spent studying his old texts, filling memory gaps up urgently before the new term began, and soon enough, James and Lily were seeing the pair off to Hogwarts, and Harry unashamedly hugged his parents, to the surprise of everyone, before seeing them off, it dismayed him but, in this world, Harry did not have Hedwig, or any pet, for that matter, and resolved to change it for the sake of company, an boy has to have _some _friend...right?

He found himself a carriage and waved frantically from the window until the train moved and his parents were out of sight, Daniel had gone to sit with Hermione and Ron, and suddenly he felt lonelier than ever, chattering to the trolley cart lady just for the sake of it and purchasing a handful of sweets and pastries just to tide him over the long back-to-school feast that'd be Sorting first years.

Wait, if Daniel was going into second year, or was it third..? He thought second, but now after much thought, due his 'missing time' - some calculations showed it was probably third. Damn, either way, that means if Hermione and Ron are the same year, than Draco Malfoy, the Patil twins, Lavender Brown, to name a few, literally everyone he knew the name of - or almost everyone, were in that year, bellow, hadn't come to Hogwarts yet or very unlikely to be in Harry's year, so he would be in the snake den with a bunch of strangers. Great.

Then, something clicked.

'_Born as the seventh month dies...'_

He wasn't sure when his birthday was, in this world, is his scar was connected to Voldemort again - something he vowed to research, if Voldemort had horcuxes and a connection to Daniel, how he survived that night, and importantly - _the damn prophecy, _it had to be different. Something, somewhere, changed.

If he was born at the wrong time or the prophecy was different or something, Voldemort hadn't come back this time, Pettigrew had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and Voldemort was still an aimless spirit, the horcrux diary was probably still with the Malfoys and possibly in the hands of the Weasleys...

"Bloody hell, I'm thick," he groaned, Hermione back in his world would have noticed everything within the first night and had an answer before they even got to school, a smug, smarmy, familiar voice interrupted his out-loud musing.

"No disagreements there, shouldn't you be in a body-bind in St Mungos somewhere instead of shaming up Slytherin?" sneered the voice of the Malfoy heir, and to be honest, Harry was almost glad to see the smarmy git's face - just for more familiarity in this strange new world, at least something's didn't _utterly _change - Malfoy was still a git.

"You have that covered all on your own, with enough Sleakeasy to keep every fireplace in Hogsmeade running," said Harry easily, making Draco's face turn to one of shock, before contorting in anger as Crabbe and Goyle leered threateningly.

Harry just gave them a dry look, before rising to his feet, at complete height, extending a long, cherry wood wand that was as long - if not longer - than Draco's, which, sans perhaps Hagrid's, was the largest Ollivander ever sold, it was like he was a lumbering bastion of power.

If there was one cool thing about this topsy turvy universe, it was that he was taller than Draco Malfoy and all his goons, and older, being born ahead.

"Just because some of us take pride in our appearance instead of happily looking like the bastard offspring of _Hagrid _\- doesn't mean you should go around criticising your betters," he sneered, despite his already pale face losing some colour, even Crabbe and Goyle looked wary, they hadn't seen Harry look this scary.

"What, going to punch me like you punched Greyback?" he smirked.

Harry's stare turned to ice, and at that point, Draco realized his error.

"Was there a reason you came to my compartment or are you just trying to start something?" he hissed through his teeth, glowering at the trio.

"You wouldn't do that on probation," he stammered "-and my _father-"_

_"_I asked you a question, what did you come for?!" snapped Harry, Merlin almighty he forgot how _whiny _Draco Malfoy could sound, and it grated on him like nails on a chalkboard.

"My father wanted me to hand you this in person," Draco hesitated, withdrawing an elegant wax-sealed envelope from his robe - the seal itself, belonging to the Malfoy's - as their family crest, Harry took it warily, raising a brow as his irritation dissipated to curiosity, Draco seemed to think the better of his naturally arsey attitude as he remembered the reason he came in search of the less important Potter, and swallowed some of his pride, for Lucius's sake.

"Apologies, Potter. It wouldn't have been _normal _without the usual vitriol, no hard feelings," he smiled a bit, and Harry was now perplexed as to what game Malfoy was playing, he comes in, swaggering about, insulting him to get his attention, and is now smiling like it was a joke, like this was just banter.

"Well, I suppose you had to retain dignity while being your father's personal owl somehow," said Harry, trying to pull of his most Malfoy-like smirk right back at the blond until he couldn't stand it and left in what could only be described as a very prissy, very _girly _huff, which lacked the usual heated _'I genuinely hate your guts and want to leave your gross presence' _manner.

It seemed Draco Malfoy was genuinely bantering, and they spoke the Slytherin language of insults, and somehow, that meant they were on better terms with each other.

"Bloody weird,"

He was about to open the letter, until Goyle warily stuck his head back into the carriage.

"Oh, and Potter, Draco says we're arriving soon, so you should probably change,"

"Er-Thanks Goyle," said Harry awkwardly as the door shut, changing his robes and letting the letter slip from his mind for a bit when Hogwarts came into view from the window as he pulled the neat robes onto his persons and slowly broke the wax seal on Lucius's letter, probably about Fenrir's trial or something, the man _had _been acting odd.

'To _Harry J. Potter,_

_Elder Heir of the Potter House of the Noble Lion,_

_I must admit, my son writes rarely, even more rarely of his other housemates outside of his year, your name came up seldom, but you caught my eye at that trial. You took down a thing of nightmares with your bare fists, not entirely befitting but showing a strength few wizards and witches have, all the same._

_Our families may not always get on, though we have no declared blood feud, Dark and Light mixes like oil and water, but the eradication of Fenrir Greyback was a favour to the world, and not one that is met without consequence._

_Enclosed is something you will find something useful to you, as a formal recognition and deceleration of my favour towards you on the date of your manslaughter trial. _

_Acceptance of this means one thing though, Mr Potter._

_You owe me a favour in kind._

_Sincerely, _

_Lucius A. Malfoy_

_Lord of the Malfoy House of the Rising Snake'_

Inside was something small, delicate, though unbreakable, it was none other than the same object he saw in the DaDa office back in his own reality when fake-Moody taught it.

It was a tiny foe glass, a smart, subtle, and oh very pureblood message to keep his friends close, but enemies closer, and to watch his back, it was civil as it was threatening, a double edged sword in a way, as Lucius Malfoy entrapped him in a pureblood custom, and, not keen to make an enemy of the man as he would try to prevent Voldemort's second rise and find out where the Riddle diary horcrux was - if it existed - he would need the Malfoys.

So, he accepted the gift, and entered the pureblood political dance, and vowed to pick up a book on the customs and make sure he didn't royally cock things up.

The thestral ride to Hogwarts with silent, nervous younger years who weren't actively awful to Harry was a quiet one, to say the least, the doors opened and finally, Harry was met with a sight he missed so much, standing undamaged from war, pristine as ever. Hogwarts.

_Home._


End file.
